I know, it's been a long fucking time. I am crazy busy. I'll update my other fic soon, too, because I'm about to have a ton of down time. But I hope you like this chapter, even though it kind of puts a damper of the E/B action. I figured that Alice and Jasper have been neglected for a few chapters, so hopefully nobody has a bitch fit.
song: can you tell by rarariot
APOV
If I were being honest with myself, I would have admitted that I snooped. I did it. But so what? People snoop. It's a perfectly normal thing to do. It's curiosity, that's all. Maybe I didn't even snoop. Snoop is such a dirty word. Maybe I was just…testing. Testing out the box to make sure Bella wouldn't get a splinter or something. I was actually just being nice. That's all.
Fuck.
Fine. I snooped. I read Edward's little fucking Inspector Gadget top-secret Mission Impossible letter thing he taped to the bottom of Bella's box.
He gave it to me, his hands shaking while trying not to make eye contact. "Can you wrap this for me, Al?" he asked, his voice low and gravely. "I tried to wrap it like, three times, and I just keep fucking it up."
I snorted, taking the box from his hands and trying to figure out why he was sweating so profusely. "Sure," I giggled, tugging to pry the thing from his fingers. He swallowed, dragging his hand across his forehead with his eyes to the floor.
"Thanks," he whispered before turning to bolt out of the room. I tossed the box on my bed, its contents clanking and banging up against each other. Edward poked his head in through my cracked door, his eyes fixed on his suspicious gift. Shaking his head, he muttered something to himself that sounded like 'pull yourself together, man.' And then he was gone.
Hm. Weird. Edward usually bought Em and I Christmas gifts, but he almost never bothered to wrap them, and if he did, he didn't care whether or not they looked like shit. So who would he be giving such a gift to? Certainly not Jasper. I had actually been getting ready to go exchange gifts with him the very second that Edward had decided to come and have an aneurysm over some stupid wooden box thing. And it obviously wasn't for me or Emmett. Edward loved to torture me with anticipation and he knew all too well that I had too big of a mouth to keep secrets from our older brother. That left…Bella.
I eyed the wooden box carefully as I considered this, something clicking in my brain as I realized how very familiar it was.
This was Edward's box. When he and I were small, I'd sneak into his room and stretch up on the tips of my toes, trying desperately to reach the very box that Edward kept on the top rack of his closet. But I could never reach, and the minute I'd managed to drag his desk chair over in the exact place I needed it to be, Edward would burst in and yell or kick me or something.
"It's a secret," he'd laugh every time I begged him to tell me what was inside. I'd whine and cry and throw tantrums while he smiled at me innocently, Esme sending me to my room to have a time out for yelling at my brother. It was maddening.
When we turned seven, Edward started bringing the damned box absolutely everywhere. School, friend's houses, everywhere. He'd put it in the grass during recess and sit on top of it, sliding it under his desk during Spelling and propping his elbows up on it while we ate our ham and cheese sandwiches at lunch. Soon enough, both Edward and Emmett were laughing about the secret contents of the little wooden box, turning their eyes up to my face to snort and giggle as my eyelashes grew wet. I remember how hot my cheeks would get, my little fingers curling into fists as I watched my brothers enjoy a secret that I could never know. It didn't help my case when they began disappearing almost everyday after school the next year, whispering things to one another about the woods and some mysterious hangout that they had together. Edward would tuck the box beneath his armpit, shooting me a glare as they left the confines of my backyard together. I was always alone.
I never really found out exactly what he kept in the box, but I knew that it was his. It was his most favorite thing in the world, his best-kept secret. Sometimes I considered what could be inside and wondered if I was better off just not knowing. It was probably something stupid, like a Gameboy and Pokemon cards or a little clipping out of one of Jasper's dad's old Playboys from the seventies. But I think it was the fact that I wasn't allowed to know that kept me wondering.
So now he was giving it to Bella. And as much as I wanted to open the box and look inside, after I read that letter, I couldn't bring myself to do it. My eyes clouded and nearly spilled over as I took in everything that my brother had written, his complete vulnerability overshadowing the general irritation that I felt for everything that he did.
Edward loved Bella.
There was no denying it.
If he loved Bella more than Jasper loved me, I didn't really want to think about it. I think that our individual relationships were too drastically different to compare them to one another. But I was…proud. I was proud of Edward. I knew he'd hack my head off if he found me reading the one thing that could ever possibly bring the best thing in his life back to him, but I don't regret reading it. Amidst the fucks and goddamnits, three words repeated numerous times formed a lump in my chest that I couldn't shake.
But, Bella, I can't even tell you how much I miss you. I miss the hell out of you. I love you, Bella. I don't know if you love me, or if you just said it because you felt bad for me, but if I've ever been sure about anything, it's this. I love you. God, I love you. And I want you back.
As a gasp ripped its way from between my teeth, I hastily folded the note back up and slid it under the tape that held it in place. The words embarrassed me. Not because they were stupid or anything, but because I was never meant to see them. As I wrapped the silver paper around Edward's gift, something settled within me. I was rooting for Edward, and if Bella didn't take him back, she was a fool.
I knew everything. Bella had told me, surprisingly enough, without sparing any important details. I would have normally said that the entire relationship was fucked, but after reading my brother's letter to her, my mind was in my skull backwards and my train of thought was completely shaken. I'd told Bella the truth about Carlisle, and she'd wanted to tell Edward that she knew. But instead, she, um, jumped on his dick. Hmph. It was kind of retarded and sort of un-Bella-like, but I guess she was under some kind of intense pressure. To each, her own, I guess. But then she came back and…did it again. So now she in Edward were in a tangled web of lies and deceit and he wanted her back. Did he deserve her? Maybe not. But I was kind of pulling for him.
*
My alarm smacked me into consciousness the next morning as I woke with my face planted into the carpet, my light still on a several pieces of tape stuck to my disheveled hair. It wasn't like me to fall asleep improperly groomed, and I guess I'd been wrapping one to many presents if I'd passed out on the floor like that.
"Get up, Alice!" Emmett's voice boomed from the other side of my door. His fists fell against the wood, laughter erupting from his chest like a child's. "It's Christmas! Wake up! It's Christmas!"
I groaned, scratching my head as I heard Emmett bound down the stairs. Sometimes it was hard to believe that he was a day over seven. I peered out the window, the silence of the heavy snowfall swallowing the entire house. If it wasn't for Emmett, I would have thought that the house was empty. That was the good thing about Forks: it constantly rained, but when it was cold, the rain turned to perfect, powdery snow.
Peeling off the previous day's clothes, I wrapped myself in my silk robe and followed the sounds of my family coming from the kitchen.
"Merry Christmas, baby!" Esme chirped, setting a steaming plate of waffles on the center of our kitchen table.
"Yes, Merry Christmas, Alice," Carlisle said softly, a warm smile stretching on his face. He rubbed the top of his head self-consciously, taking thoughtful sips from his coffee.
I smiled in return, my eyes drooping. The chair scraped across the tile as I pulled it back, startling Edward. He'd had his head in his arms—neither of us were morning people, like the rest of the family.
"Merry Christmas, twin brother," I cooed sarcastically, cutting a waffle in half and plopping it on my plate. "Fa-la-la, and all that."
"I appreciate it," he grimaced, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands as Emmett shoveled four waffles onto his plate for him. "So when can we start the festivities so I can go back to bed?"
"Edward!" Esme chastised. "It's Christmas. Be a good sport."
Edward yawned. "I am a good sport. That's why I'm down here in the first place, and not up in bed still."
"Well, regardless, today is the day of Jesus' birth. We will celebrate as a family."
"I'm not complaining, or anything, but Mom, we don't even go to church," Emmett laughed, shoveling an entire waffle into his mouth.
Carlisle hastily swallowed his coffee before coming to Mom's defense. "It doesn't matter. We're a family, and today, we're going to act like one. Now everyone, get in the Christmas spirit. Or, uh, you'll be in deep trouble."
A giggle escaped from my throat as Carlisle struggled to make his threat valid. "You must open that present, Edward, or I shall lock you in the dungeon!" I mocked, lowering my voice in a poor attempt at mimicking my father's voice.
Edward chuckled. "Alice! You must eat that gingerbread cookie and you must enjoy it! Or else!" he imitated, Carlisle's cheeks turning pink.
"Now, now, that's enough," he said firmly, his lips fighting a smile. "Let's just enjoy the day and keep the fighting to a minimum. Agreed?"
"Fine," we all sighed in unison.
Christmas was never really such a big deal. We all bought what we individually needed or wanted throughout the year, so Christmas shopping was always particularly difficult. I can't say that I was bored when Carlisle gave me the keys to a new BMW, however. Edward and I had been driving to school together since we'd gotten our licenses—never mind the fact that I initially failed my driver's test three consecutive times. Now his emo ass wouldn't be such a Debbie Downer on the short morning drives to school. Only the Cullen children would drive three individual cars to school in the morning, I thought to myself, smiling as I ran my fingers across the buttery leather of the headrest. It wasn't like I was willing to save the O-Zone or whatever by driving with Emmett in the mornings. Ew. Take that, Environment!
Edward basically got cash from our parents, and copious amounts of it. It was sort of disgusting.
"Maybe you can use some of that to get a nice haircut?" Esme suggested politely. It reminded me of something that I would do. Actually, it was something I would do, something I would be doing. My thoughts flickered to the wooden hairbrush wrapped carefully in my bedroom—a gift for Bella and her ratty, knotted hair. "Or maybe you can take those piano lessons you've always wanted. Become more cultured," Esme prompted.
"Thanks, Mom," Edward grunted, ignoring her hopeless suggestions. To accent her hollow requests, he ran a hand hastily through his tousled hair. I could almost hear her cringe.
Emmett got season tickets for some sport's team in Seattle and a bunch of shit for his Jeep. I rolled my eyes as he chortled like a little girl, his eyes widening with every gift that he unwrapped. I could almost picture him in footie pajamas and pigtails as he unwrapped a new football, a feminine squeal slipping from his mouth.
I'd gotten my mom and dad little, somewhat impersonal things, trying to lighten the mood. But when Emmett, Edward, and I were done opening our presents, the mood shifted drastically. Esme had unwrapped her various spa certificates and cashmere sweaters, leaving my father somewhat in the spotlight. I swallowed nervously as I watched him.
Carlisle's health wasn't improving. It was a cloud over our heads, dark and ever-present. It was unsettling, not having any closure or a sign as to what would come. But as he sat there, on the couch beside my mother with his eyes in his lap, emotion built up inside of me. The eyes of my brothers mirrored what I felt.
Esme pushed his elbow expectantly as he twisted a small box over and over between his thumb and his index finger, prompting him to open it. He glanced at her, his eyes sad and strangely old with age. They watched each other for just the shortest minute, her face pleading as he continued to twist the package with his fingers. The exchange was odd, the emotion in their faces undetectable. But for some reason, it made me feel…empty.
"Alright," Carlisle breathed, his eyes dragging from Esme's face to the gift in his palm. He forced a smile, sliding his finger beneath the tape. "Let's see what we have here."
"Oh! That's from me," I said, watching my father carefully.
He smiled a toothy grin, but it didn't quite touch his eyes. He lifted the lid from the package, his eyes adjusting as he stared at the new cufflinks I'd bought him, nestled deep within the satin box they came in. "Wow, Alice," he breathed. "This is just…wow."
"You're welcome," I answered warmly, my stomach twisting into little knots. Why was he reacting this way? He stared at those stupid cufflinks as if they were the face of God. Edward looked just as confused. Emmett wasn't really paying attention, but was actually just drawing a picture of a deformed-looking naked chick on the new Etch-a-Sketch that came in his stocking.
Esme slipped a hand around Carlisle's knee, squeezing it gently. He eyed her again, pursing his lips as his jaw set in a hard line. They exchanged more foreign glances before he turned his attention back to the small pile of presents at his feet.
He opened the gift from Emmett, which as actually been wrapped and purchased by me. Emmett would have wound up buying Carlisle something like a hockey stick or an X-box game—something that would inevitably wind up back in his own hands. It was a box of cologne and a set of season tickets identical to the ones he'd purchased for Emmett, so that the two of them could go together. "Emmett, how did you know—Ah. Alice." Carlisle laughed a genuine cackle, reaching forward to ruffle Emmett's hair like he had when we were little. Emmett smiled before turning his attention back to his stupid little toy.
"Thank you guys," Carlisle muttered, his throat groggy as he looked at all of us with those same, empty eyes. "This really means a lot to me."
"Wait!" Edward yelped, making us all jump a little. "You forgot about my present." He reached behind him, extracting a present that was wrapped in a horrid Santa-print, duct tape wound around it to hold the lumps and wads of wrapping paper in place. I smiled, remembering that particular roll of paper. It had to have been years old.
Carlisle opened his mouth to speak, deciding against it and closing his lips. Edward reached toward him with the gift as Carlisle stared at it, his eyebrows knitted together. "Thanks," Carlisle said as he grabbed the terrible looking thing from Edward's hand. They locked gazes, and Edward's lips turned down at the ends with discomfort.
"You're welcome," he muttered, his eyes falling to his lap.
The package was kind of huge. If I hadn't known better, I would have said that it was around the same size as the box that my new Fendi came in. Carlisle's eyes searched the horribly wrapped paper, not really knowing what to do with himself. Edward never bought presents. This was…odd.
Edward watched expectantly as Carlisle being to slowly peel the paper from whatever was inside, his eyes widening when he revealed a rickety cardboard box. What was with Edward and his fucking boxes? Regardless, Carlisle seemed to think it was completely normal as he lifted the flaps folded into one another to peek down inside of it.
"Edward," he said, his voice muffled with a mixture of shock and appreciation. "Is this—?"
"Yeah," Edward answered quickly. He looked down at his lap, raking a hand through his hair nervously.
Carlisle's milky blue eyes flitted back to the box, his unsure, shaking fingers reaching down into its depths. He pulled out a worn, brown mass, held together by old red stitching. It took me a minute to recognize what it was, and when I did, I couldn't fight the smile that stretched across my face.
"You bought me that," Edward murmured, looking up at our father. "When I was five. I used it in my first Little League game."
"I remember," Carlisle said warmly, smiling to himself as he shoved four of his fingers up into the baseball glove. "You were so excited."
I felt almost indecent, watching Carlisle open Edward's gift. They interacted as if they were the only two people in the room, and I felt like I was intruding as I watched them. Edward hadn't spent anything on Carlisle's present, but I got the odd feeling that this gift was my father's favorite.
"It's the best thing you ever did for me, Dad," Edward replied. "You can bring a glove next time we go to the house."
"What house?" Esme interjected, her eyebrows screwing together in confusion.
Carlisle laughed, ignoring her and twisting on the leather of the couch so he was angled toward Edward. "We have a deal," he said, absolutely beaming.
*
"I peaked," I admitted, my eyes in my lap.
"What do you mean, you peaked?" Jasper chuckled. He slipped his finger beneath my chin and lifted my face towards him, his navy eyes churning with confusion.
I'd driven to Jasper's as soon as Esme gave me the green light, the strange feeling that my father's unexplained reactions had given me still creeping uncomfortably up my spine. We were cuddled up in his little twin-sized bed, the cover pulled up to our chins as the snowfall from outside his window cast a muted glow over the room.
"Edward got Bella a present," I answered, hoping that I wouldn't have to explain any more. I felt impossibly guilty for rummaging, and I hated it. Guilt wasn't an emotion that I was used to having, what with me barely having any sort of conscience.
"A Christmas present?" Jasper asked. "Fuck. I wonder how she'll take it. But I still don't understand the 'peaking' part."
I sighed, twisting in his arms so the back of my head was against his chest. "Edward…well, Edward taped a letter on the bottom of the wooden box he put all this sentimental shit in. And I, um, I read it."
Jasper gasped, his arms tightening around my waist. "A wooden box, you said? Like, the wooden box?"
"That very one," I answered.
"Damn," he sighed. "He used to be fucking obsessed with that thing. But about the note thing…I'm guessing that you found it?"
"Yeah. I didn't go looking or anything, I just felt it, taped to the bottom."
"Did you just find the box somewhere? Did he leave it in his room or something?" he asked, his hot breath fanning over the top of my head.
"No, no, nothing like that," I said quickly, twisting Jasper's blue sheets around my ankles. "He gave it to me to wrap. Edward can't wrap worth shit."
I felt Jasper's chest rumble against my back as he chuckled. "Oh, I know. Trust me. He's given me presents before."
"But I guess that I sort of…read it. The letter, I mean. I found it and I couldn't help it."
Jasper laughed again. "No offense, Al, but that's typical you. Curiosity always gets your best. Edward knows that."
My eyebrows furrowed. "What are you saying?"
"What I'm saying is that Edward knows that you're a bonafide snooper. Jesus, Al, you snooped through my underwear drawer when we were young just to see if I wore boxers or briefs."
I blushed as he kissed the top of my head.
"Your brother wouldn't have given anything to you that he doesn't trust you with. No need to get all guilty on me," he said, his voice colored with assurance. I lifted my head to look at his face. One side of his mouth pulled up into a smirk.
"I guess you're right," I sighed. "I didn't look in the box, though. I felt too bad about reading the note. But after I leave here, he's making me bring it to her."
Jasper grimaced. "Christ," he swore. "Tough luck."
"You're telling me," I muttered, twisting again so I was facing him. I looked down at where my hands were pressed against his chest, taking a deep, labored breath.
"Hey," he said softly, struggling to meet my eyes. "You'll be fine. If she gets angry, then you can always leave. If she cries, stay with her. You'll be fine."
"I guess," I agreed half-heartedly. "Or maybe she'll just slap me. I haven't been very helpful. Especially since The Justic League was sort of terminated."
"You were never very good at keeping secrets," Jasper said thoughtfully. "The Justice League was doomed from the start. We have to let them work out their own problems now."
"You're right," I sighed, defeated. "But thanks for trying."
He smiled at me for a moment before his warm lips shaped against mine, his hands cradling my face. The weight of my anxiousness lightened almost as if he'd commanded it. He pulled me by the armpits so I straddled him in the classic Alice-and-Jasper position, his hands grasping greedily against the back of my sweater.
"Merry Christmas," I giggled, moving my mouth from his lips to his earlobe. He let out a groan as I ran my tongue against the cuff of his ear, his finger snaking lightly up my bare spine.
"Woah. Not the kind of thing I want to see on the morn of baby Jesus' birth," a familiar voice called clearly. I whipped my head in the direction of the sudden sound, gasping when I found Rosalie standing in the doorway with her hand on her hip.
Jasper's cold hands slipped out from beneath my sweater so quickly that I yelped, blushing as I realized the awkwardness of the situation at hand. "Get out, Rose," he said angrily, placing his hands around my hips and lifting me off his crotch.
"Calm down, Big Brother," she said nonchalantly, inspecting her perfect nails. "I just need to talk to your hooker for a minute."
"Who, me?" I squeaked, internally smacking myself for being intimidated by my oldest friend. The embarrassment of getting caught by Rosalie as I was about to do her brother hadn't quite worn off yet, and the chagrin was diminishing my ego.
"Do you know of anyone else who is fucking my brother? Wait, don't answer that question," Rose snickered, tapping her foot against the hardwood impatiently.
"Get out, Rose!" Jasper repeated, his eyes hard and angry. "I mean it. Leave."
"Give me just a minute with her!" Rose insisted, the volume of her voice just below a shout. "Then I'll give her back and pretend that you aren't screwing her outside of marriage on a Christian holiday."
Jasper deliberated for a moment, his breathing heavy and frustrated. "Fine," he said after a moment. "You'd find a way to get what you want anyhow."
"So glad you see it my way," Rose smirked, trudging toward the bed and taking me by the arm. "Be back in a jiff," she sang as she pulled me through the door.
"What is it, Rose?" I spat, tugging my arm away from her steel grasp as she led me into her bedroom.
She sprawled across the red satin of her duvet, crossing her ankles and folding her arms across her chest as her long, blonde curls fanned across her pillows. "I got you a present," she answered simply.
"And that's why you interrupted? To give me a Christmas gift?" I asked incredulously. I placed my hands on my hips, shooting daggers as I waited for her excuse.
"'Tis the season of giving, blah, blah, blah," she replied with a bored expression. "I thought you'd be happy. You love gifts."
I could feel my face soften as I crossed the room to perch on the edge of her bed. "I do. And I appreciate it. But, um, no offense, you are a huge cockblocker."
Rose shot up a hand and gagged. "Don't want to know," she hissed, shaking her head. "But, yeah. I got you a gift. Because even though you don't talk to me anymore, you're still my best friend for all intents and purposes." She reached across to her bedside table, retrieving a small, antiqued silver picture frame with a picture of the two of us when we were ten inside. Rose was still beautiful and I was still, well, short, but we were both smiling so hugely that it made me happy just looking at it. My eyes welled with tears as I looked back up at her.
"You're still my best friend, too, Rose. Forever."
She sniffed, trying to hide the emotion on her face. "So you like it?"
"I do," I said earnestly, tracing our childish faces with my index finger. "I love it."
"Well, that's good, then," Rose said awkwardly, her eyes glued to her toes. The two of us sat in silence, the hum of the air conditioner the only sound. Rose would shift every once in a while, our eyes playing tag with one another whenever we thought the other one wasn't looking.
"So…" Rose said, breaking the ice. "How are things?"
I laughed, feeling a mixture of humor and bitterness. A little under five months ago, Rose and I would have been gossiping and playing with each other's hair by then. But things were different. Everything was different.
"Things are…good. I guess," I said indifferently, shrugging. "Everything going okay with you and Emmett?"
"Yeah," she shrugged back. "I'd ask how you and Jasper are, but I think that I get the idea."
I chuckled uneasily, picking at her bedspread and swinging my legs off the edge. Again, a few moments of silence passed as we sat there in stillness. "I miss you, Rose," I blurted, her eyes moving quickly to meet mine. I clamp my lips together, cringing at my little outburst.
"You do?" she asked quietly.
I nodded. "A lot, actually."
Silence.
"We used to be so close," I continued hesitantly. "Before Jasper was even in the picture. But now, it's just awkward."
She barked out a humorless laugh, criss-crossing her legs and leaning her elbows on her knees. "That's for sure," she sighed, resting her chin on her fists. "We even met up to talk about this, remember? We promised that we just wouldn't talk about our relationships. But Em and Jasper are such a big part of our lives, Alice. I never thought that the result of our compromise would wind up with us just not talk to each other."
"I know," I said softly. "I never thought that either."
"I can't have you as a best friend and just not talk about Emmett, Al."
"Me neither. About Jasper, I mean."
"Well then…what do we do?" Rosalie's thin, blonde eyebrows pulled up as she raked her hair back with both palms.
"I don't know," I replied, shaking my head. "Just…not be best friends?" The thought made a little piece of my heart break off.
"Maybe," Rose answered, her eyes falling away from mine.
Silence consumed us again, but it wasn't awkward anymore. It was just sad.
"I love you, Al," Rosalie said firmly. "I do. And I don't want to just lose you as a friend."
"Me either," I agreed.
"So we'll work it out. Let's just stop avoiding each other. Let's try and be close again. If it doesn't work out, then that's fine. But I just…I wish that I could talk to Jasper again without him telling me to suck a dick or something. I wish I could come home with Emmett without being afraid that I'll see you there. And lunch at school fucking sucks," she blurted without skipping a beat.
I smiled, the muscles in my face tightening as it stretched up to my eye sockets. "Okay," I agreed. "Best friends? Forever and ever?"
"And ever," Rose promised, holding out a pinky. "God, we sound like fucking morons."
"And that's the beauty of it," I laughed, linking my pinky with hers.
*
I left the Hales without the leftover side effects from post-coital Jasper Hale euphoria, but I did leave with a new picture frame and a new sense of confidence.
But now I was left with the hard part. Bella. Fuck. Bella, Bella, Bella. It was up to me to help my brother reconcile with her. I guess I owed it to him. I guess I owed it to both of them. But in the end, it was up to me.
I guess you could say that i was damned if I did, damned if I didn't.
*
so? comments? hm. REVIEW. please (:
just to let you know, my song for next chapter is killer. i'm writing it now, so it will be up soon. the fact that this story is sort of close to being over saddens me. holler at me, babes.
