Thanks to ShearEnvy, bashfulfan and roglows. xoxo
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rosalie slams the front door behind her.
"I'm up here," I yell.
She's wearing a dark plum lipstick that, along with her straight, white-blonde hair, accentuates her pale skin. Underneath her coat she's wearing a burgundy velvet top so low-cut that it makes me gasp. She doesn't usually get this dressed up, even if she's still wearing her Doc Martens and there are holes in her tight jeans.
"I can seriously almost see nipple, Rosalie."
She squares her shoulders, looking at herself in my mirror. "It's good, right?"
I don't disagree. She's tall and thin and her skin is perfect. She can't hide that behind dark eyeliner and the silver stud in her nose. If she was in a cheerleading uniform, she would be the homecoming queen. She knows it.
We go downstairs to mix vodka with orange juice. Both of us wince at the first sip, not even pretending to like the taste.
When Emmett walks in the kitchen he has to visibly restrain himself from looking at Rose's chest. She grins, saluting him with her free hand. "Private Hale, reporting for duty, sir."
"At ease," he says, shaking his head. I see him sneak a glance at her cleavage. She sees it, too.
"Want a drink?" she asks, nonchalantly.
"No." Emmett doesn't drink or smoke weed anymore. "And don't get all wasted before we get there."
"I make no promises," Rosalie says, taking another sip.
We're only slightly tipsy by the time we get to the party. Probably half of our school is here - mostly upperclassmen but there's a group of kids standing awkwardly in the entryway.
"Freshmen are so benign," Rosalie says. She's always making statements like that.
I roll my eyes and theirs widen as they watch her walk past. I smile genuinely at the group. I remember very well what it felt like to be them.
We end up standing in the kitchen, mixing drinks. I see Edward before he sees me, Tanya Denali practically hanging off of him. It's clear that she's had a lot to drink already, her cheeks are red and her movements exaggerated. He smiles easily at whomever they're talking to and I look away.
Seeing that look on his face makes me feel sick, but I don't have time to think about it because someone barrels into me from the side, lifting me off my feet and spinning me around. "I fucking love that you're here right now," Jasper says, setting me down. He's got a bottle of whiskey in one hand. He stumbles, bumping into some girl's elbow so she spills her drink. She glares at him. "You know what your problem is?" he asks her. "You rich fuckers don't know how to party." He laughs and upends the bottle of whiskey into his mouth, spilling it all over his shirt.
"Jas," Emmett starts, but thinks better of it. It's best to just let him go.
Jasper gets a look at what Rosalie's wearing and stops short, his jaw dropping. He reaches his free hand out toward her right boob and she swats it away. Emmett laughs and she swats at him, too.
Edward elbows his way through the crowd to get to us, his eyes on mine as he approaches. He wraps an arm around Jasper's neck and grabs the bottle of whiskey from him. "Causing trouble?" he asks Jasper.
Before Jasper can respond a small, dark-haired girl stomps up and shoves him in the chest. He stumbles backward and Edward catches him. "Did you seriously grab Jessica Stanley's ass? You fucking asshole."
"It meant nothing. She begged me to. I fucking love you!" She glares at him and turns to walk away.
Jasper yells after her. "Alicia, wait up!"
Turning back, she shoves him in the chest again. Emmett keeps him upright this time. Jasper grabs the bottle of whiskey and follows her.
"Alicia!"
We watch them disappear into the crowd.
"Yeah… that girl's name is Alice," Rosalie says, after a long pause.
All of us bust out laughing.
Rose and Emmett go to mix her another drink and I'm left standing with Edward. I give him a small smile.
"Having fun?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "No."
I don't ask him to elaborate.
"Are you?"
"I didn't want to come," I admit.
Tanya chooses that moment to stumble up, wrapping a hand around Edward's bicep, a drink in her other hand. "Hey, Bella." She smiles lazily.
I smile back and it's fake, but she's so drunk she probably wouldn't notice if I stuck my tongue out at her.
"Let's go upstairs," she whispers loudly to Edward, pressing her body against his.
I take back my earlier thought...she is kind of slutty.
My stomach turns and I walk away before I can hear any more. I make my way through the crowd in the living room, through the kitchen and into the backyard. There's a crowd in the hot tub but the area around the pool is empty. I sit in one of the lounge chairs off to the side, laying back to look at the sky. My vision blurs slightly, then comes clear. I take another drink.
"Bella?"
The voice sounds familiar but I can't place it until I see his face. We have a few classes together this year. He sits in the chair next to me, long legs stretching out, a beer in his hand.
"Hey, Jacob."
"What's up?" he asks.
I shrug, but suddenly I feel the need to spill my guts. "Have you ever liked someone that doesn't like you back?"
He laughs. "Yes."
Leaning my head back, I look up at the few stars I can see. "How did you get over it?"
"I hooked up with someone else."
This time it's me that laughs. I look over at him, looking at his face in the moonlight. Jacob is easy to be around, always smiling.
"Does that work?"
"Well, yeah. I mean, for the moment. It's not like we're going to marry whoever we date now anyway, you know?"
I laugh again, even though a part of me stings when he says that. Shoving that feeling away, I stop thinking. Conversation with Jake is easy. After a while, I forget I was upset at all and he goes to get me another drink, lighting a joint when he gets back.
Jacob's lips taste like chapstick and he's a messy kisser. I don't care, though. I don't think, I just let my lips move along with his, uninhibited and loose.
When he slides his hand along my waist I let it happen, but when he tries to put his hand under my shirt I push it away. He kisses me again and I kiss him back.
"I've been wanting to ask you out." He moves his hand under my shirt and upward, with more force this time. I try to push him away again.
Before I have a chance to say anything he's jerked up and away. "Back the fuck up," I hear Edward say.
I sit up, covering myself when I realize he managed to get a few buttons on my shirt undone. Edward has Jacob by the collar, but he's watching me.
"You okay?"
I look around us. People have stopped talking to watch. I stand without making eye contact with Edward or Jacob and try to keep my head held high as I walk out the back gate, back toward a neighborhood that I'm familiar with.
Half a block away I stop until I can get the last button on my flannel fastened. I realize I forgot my purse and close my eyes, cursing weed for making me forget things. Walking back into that party sounds awful.
I hear Edward before I see him, calling my name a few times as he walks down the alley. He jogs forward and hands me my purse, shaking his head.
"Who the hell was that kid?" he asks, anger in his voice.
My anger matches his.
"How is that any of your business? Why do you all treat me like I'm still a little girl?"
He stares at me, his eyes searching my face. "I think the problem is that you aren't a little girl anymore, Bella," he says, so quietly I almost can't hear him.
That throws me off.
"Is that how you want it to happen? At a party in some stranger's backyard?"
"Oh yeah, I was totally going to have sex with him on a pool chair," I say, sarcastically. "I can take care of myself."
Even as I say that I kind of know it's not totally true.
"Either way, you deserve better than some guy who doesn't care what you want."
I can't disagree with him, so I don't try.
"What, did Emmett make you check up on me?" I'm still defiant but starting to lose conviction.
He turns, looking back toward the party. "Rosalie got too drunk. Emmett took her back to your house and couldn't find you. He asked me to drive you home since I didn't drink tonight," he says.
My brain is still foggy but I'm present enough to realize that I probably shouldn't walk home from here. I know I'll go with him, but I'm not quite ready to give in.
"What about Tanya?"
"Jesus, Bella," he says, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "I don't care about Tanya, okay? When I left she was making out with Mike Newton."
He nods his head back the way we came, asking me to follow him. I stand with my arms crossed but after a few seconds, I do. He opens the car door and shuts it behind me after I get in. I start shivering as he starts the car.
When he sees that I'm cold he turns up the heat. I watch him drive, fighting to keep my eyes open.
He pulls up in front of my house and puts the car in park. The light is on in the front porch, letting me know that my brother is waiting for me.
"I won't tell Emmett," he says. My heart aches.
"Thanks," I say.
The weight of the night hits me then, the alcohol and what happened with Jacob. Afraid that I could cry, I open the door and get out, shutting it behind me as quietly as I can. I'm hoping Emmett isn't up. I can't handle an interrogation right now.
He and Rose are asleep on the couch together. She's got her feet in his lap and he's holding one of them, his head dropped back on the couch, mouth open. The TV is stuck on a blue screen, so I turn it off along with the VCR. I take the stairs the way you do in the house you grew up in, avoiding every squeaky step. It's not until I'm in my bedroom, face washed and under my covers that I let myself really run through the night.
I go through all of the emotions again, cringing through most of it.
By the time I fall asleep I'm convinced I'm never going to school again. Or parties.
I'm startled awake by the knocking, freezing until I hear the voice that goes along with it. I get out of bed, sliding open my bedroom window so Edward can step in from the porch roof. He slides the window shut carefully. My alarm clock reads 2:30.
I wrap my arms around myself. He brought in cold air with him. I'm wearing a t-shirt that's a little too big for me, but my legs are bare. He doesn't seem to notice, looking me in the eyes.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
"When you asked me earlier… I think about that Halloween all the time. Every day."
It spills out of my mouth before I can stop it, with more emotion than I would like. "Me, too."
In the stillness that follows, time slows so I feel each of his fingers on my waist, pulling me toward him. I feel his arms wrap around me, one palm on my lower back ,his lips hitting mine as my feet leave the ground, my whole body pressed against his. It's not tender. It's years of love and frustration and everything that I've suppressed in one kiss. My hands pull at his neck and the collar of his flannel shirt. I breathe in the scent of his skin and press my warm fingers against his cold cheeks. It's the sum of all my feelings and when he sets me down, my lips feel sweet and bruised, but it's not enough.
I want more. I want him to pick me up again, to wrap my legs around his waist and pull his hair.
I want him to look like I feel, but instead he looks guilty, taking a step back.
"Your brother would kill me." he says, in explanation. "I'm supposed to protect you from the guy. I'm not supposed to be the guy."
"So we can't do this because of Emmett."
I watch him struggle to find the words. "He's my best friend," he says, trying to explain.
There's no way I can deny how much that means. We all grew up together. Our parents know each other. A lot of people are involved in our relationship and it's still hypothetical.
I wait for him to go on but he seems to have noticed my state of undress, staring at my bare legs.
"If Emmett finds me in your room with you in your underwear..." he says, refocusing on my face.
"Five more minutes," I say automatically, like I say to my mom in the morning when I don't want to get out of bed.
He smiles his half smile.
"How much trouble could we get into in five minutes?" I ask, smiling sweetly.
He shakes his head, looking away from me. "You're killin' me," he says, exhaling slowly.
I'm sure he can practically feel how intensely I want him.
"We can talk tomorrow," he says, and my heart sinks. In the light of day this situation may look very different to him. I don't want him to forget how this feels.
Taking two steps forward I push myself up onto tip-toes so my lips can reach his, one hand on his face. He hardly moves at first, letting me press against his mouth, but he can't sustain it. One of his hands tugs on the hem of my t-shirt and brushes against my thigh. I might explode. I press my hips into his and he stops breathing, backing up from the kiss. He leaves me standing in my bedroom with a promise that we'll talk tomorrow.
I'm equal parts hopeful, doubtful and desperate for his touch.
I'm not sure I've ever been this nervous for the next morning in my whole life.
Thank you for reading!