THE WRONG METHOD WITH THE WRONG TECHNIQUE

So there I was, standing in front of her door. Contemplating what? I don't know. If she had opened the door, she would be surprised—not that I would recognize that in her. Not that I would do anything about it, I was just there with my numb limbs, waiting, thinking, aging and desperate to tell her that I wanted to touch her. I didn't know exactly what I would say. Nothing perhaps… maybe I would freak out and run. But I knew that I just wanted to finish this. To forget about it and just let it go. But I couldn't. I had her card in my pocket which I was rubbing between my fingers. I was sure that by now, the card was just a useless piece of paper with unreadable words and numbers on it. I could hear her steps echoing inside, her body moving around making meaningless, random moves and random sounds. She was there and existed; and that was the best and the worst realization in my stalking days.

I went home, eventually. Yes, I still had my routine to do, but my life was only fulfilled with her and her presence. It was funny really how a person can absorb you and make you meaningless without them. Right now, everything in my life is linked to her; and every action she takes has an effect on me. As if I were the unwanted driver in her self-driven car—I was powerless to her driving and to her actions. I thought about calling her to accept her offer. I even didn't feel awkward or stupid thinking about it, but it felt like it was pointless. Besides, I didn't have the strength to approach her in that way. I was so tunnel-vision-ed that my mind couldn't calculate how to work originally anymore.

I went to the Casino with a skimpy will. And of course, the first thing I saw was her. She was there. I felt satisfied and scared, but since she was at my table, I needed to act professional. Right? Right.

"I want to play poker. Do you mind dealing poker?" she asked as soon as she saw me.

"This is only a blackjack table, ma'am," I answered grandly.

"Of course, it is. Look, can you just change tables and go to one of the poker ones? I really think you are my lucky charm." I looked at her trying to convey in my eyes that wasn't a good idea.

"Come on. Do it for me. Please?" And she looked at me with those brown eyes that I kept dreaming of. And I just couldn't say 'no'.

"Wait for me at that table." I pointed to the poker table to my left. She nodded and stood up. I went to Jasper.

"Jasper, can I ask you a favor?"

"A favor? That's new. Ok, ok, what's up?"

"You see… Ms. Swan asked me to deal her cards, but she wants to play poker."

"But you are dealing blackjack this month, boy."

"I know, but she asked, and…"

"And you don't want to disappoint her, right?"

"Well, I think it's good for business if she keeps playing. She asked for me, especially…" and I felt proud and awkward telling Jasper all this.

"Right… well, Randy is not here, so maybe I can pass this by."

"Thank you, Jasper, I owe you one." I said that because it's what people say when they make a favor, right?

"Hey, Cullen!" I was on my way when I heard Jasper calling me by my family name.

"You know the rules, man. Don't hang out with her. Keep things professional, ok?" And I nodded, because I understood and that sucked.

She looked thoughtful while I prepared the table. I was looking at her too, shifting my sight between the cards and her. Like counting, I was trying to anticipate her moves and contemplate a strategy in case things change.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Shoot!" she said, without looking at me.

I dealt five games of which she won four. She was good. Very good. But not as good as me. She made a few mistakes. I started to assemble her facial expressions to try to relate it to a familiar expression. She seemed sad.

"Are you ok?" I didn't know why I asked her that, but she was evidently frustrated and sad. I just wanted to know.

"No." I dealt a card.

"You are winning. If you keep it that way, I'm going to lose my job." She looked at me and smiled.

"I hope so…" I stared at her, trying to comprehend why she was hoping something that bad to happen to me, when I haven't done anything bad to her.

"So then you can work for me."

"Work for you? How?" As weird as it seems; losing my job and working for her was one of the fantasies that I had as soon as she gave me her card. Hearing her saying it was a dream come true. A fantasy that I didn't want to be broken even though I knew fantasies are not good once you open the Pandora box. This case wasn't any different.

"Gambling, of course. We can make a lot of money." I'd never been interested in money. My family was wealthy enough, and as a child, I lived well. Now, I was reluctant to accept the money from my father because I never needed it anymore, but still they wouldn't budge. I took care of myself working here, trying to be a part of something as much as possible. What she was implying was something that I swore never to do. So, why did this proposal sound so good? Because it had something to do with her.

"How much?" I couldn't ask anything else. Asking her about how exactly my interaction with her would be… or how much time we will be spending together wasn't politically correct.

"I don't know, thousands? if we go to Las Vegas or the big leagues, hundreds of thousands."

"I don't know. I don't gamble. It's dangerous." I started to remember when my father knew my ability with numbers at five years old. I was a calculator, retaining almost four thousand numbers without forgetting any of them in my head. My record was 3,987. I also solved difficult equations without help. I was—and still am—very good with anything to do with memory, logical behavior and Math. Then my affection for cards came; and he knew that if somebody knew this, they would take advantage of me, because he thought that I was too weak to say 'no' to anybody since I was always so scared around people. But as I grew up, he understood that it was only a charade; that I wore a mask to protect myself from the cruelty of people. Still he made me promise that if I wanted to play cards, he was willing to help me find a job related to it; and that I will never gamble. Only with him and without a bet of, course. He found this job for me; and I was happy and controlled. But now? No, not any more.

"No, it's not if you are smart enough," she answered.

"I promised my father to never do that," I said that because I was like a bomb ready to crash, and hoping to never ever land on her shores. I said that with hope that maybe she felt pity of me to let this thing go. But she didn't and I was so thankful for that.

"He doesn't need to know, so… are you interested?" she kept pushing and pushing. And I had no will of my own. Not with her, anyway.

"How does it work?" She stopped playing and stared at me.

"Ok. Let's do this, Edward. Do you still have my card?" Yes. Barely, I thought. My pulse rose when she said my name, I was dazed and happy.

"Yes, I think so," I said, blinking too much.

"Good. I'll wait for your call today, after your shift ends, and let's start from there. What do you think?"

"Ok." She kept playing and I kept punching myself mentally for accepting. I couldn't wait to call her. Finally, at 8 p.m., Max came and she stood up at the same time. She wasn't there when I came out of the lockers. I went home, had dinner and sat in front of my TV which was turned off. I put her card on the little table in front of me, the numbers were almost there and the corners were torn. What the hell! I took the card and went outside to a payphone, because I didn't have my own phone. I dialed the digits. Beep. Nothing. Beep. Nothing. Beep.

"Hello?" I hung up. I crashed the phone against the transparent booth and started hitting the phone with my fist. Realizing my weakness of wanting to hear her voice, but the fear of confronting her in real life; I stared at my fist and I realized that it was the first most normal, manly and emotionally-tuned reaction that I've ever had, or done. This normality and beautiful confliction in me was worth the shame? The reluctant heart? The pain? Broke a promise? Yes.

I dialed again. Beep. Nothing. Beep.

"Yes?"

"It's me. Edward." I closed my eyes, waiting for her reaction. Did she know I just called and hung up on her? Yes, she did.

"You are late. It's almost 10 p.m. Did you just call?"

"Yes, I was having second thoughts." I could have lied, but I didn't, because it was pointless with her.

"Well, if you are calling, I think it means that you got rid of them. So… to business, I'll give you my address. Can you come?"

"Now?" I asked, almost amazed about her confidence and terrified of the imminent encounter.

"Yes, Edward, now. We can't postpone this. We have like five months before the Blackjack tournament starts; and we need to be ready and practice." It was a lot of information that I didn't try to swallow. I was willing to accept whatever she was going to do with me; use me or take care of me. It was all the same as long as she was with me. She gave me the address, which, of course I knew already. I was in front of her door at 10:22 p.m.. It has been a while since I was there, a couple of days; an eternity to me. I knocked and she immediately answered. She didn't invite me to enter, instead, she got out of her apartment and closed the door behind her.

"About time! I almost fell sleep. Let's go." She took my hand and my eyes all but popped out of their sockets like cartoons. While we descended, she kept holding my hand until we were at the front door of the first floor.

"Where?" I asked, really only for costume; and because of the little bit of decency left in me; and of which my mother would be ashamed.

"For a coffee, it's going to be a long night."

We walked a few blocks; and stopped at a 24-hour café.

"This coffee tastes like shit, really. But will do the work."

We were seated in a booth with black synthetic leather, waiting for the waitress.

"Ok, this is going to sound weird or intrusive, but I need to know. Do you have a wife?" Her question was unusual and intrusive indeed, but I answered.

"No."

"Ok, what about an ex-wife?"

"No."

"Good, because ex-wives are the best fucking way to end a man's life; the pension and all that shit." I couldn't even understand how she came up with this conclusion, but something told me that it was important.

"I see… no, nothing like that." The waitress came and she ordered a black coffee and I ordered the same.

"So, basically I need to see how you work under pressure. If I like what I see, then I will be like your agent or your manager or whatever. I will arrange the games since I have lots of contacts."

"But, won't you play? I thought that we were going to be like partners?"

"No, I can't… control myself."

"So, you think I can?"

"You seem controlled and you don't do it for the rush or the money. You are weird like that."

"You think I'm weird because I like cards?"

"I think that a person with your talent is wasting his life working in a three-star casino and you know it. That, or you like the cards too much and you are a loser?"

"Maybe both?"

"No, no. You are different. I can see potential in people. If my father had taught me something in this life, it was how to recognize the potential in people and how to use it."

"So, you are going to use me." It wasn't a question, but a statement because I was aware that I hadn't the strength to fight her.

"You'll be getting a lot of money off of me 'using' you. I don't think it's unfair or a bad thing to you. A little immoral, yes. But not that much." I too thought that nothing was unfair when it was related to her.

"Where do we start?" I asked expectantly. The coffees came and I took a sip of mine. Shit indeed.

"We are going to play right now." She stuck her hand in her coat pocket, looking for something.

"How long?" I needed to know. I had work the next day.

"Until I'm convinced, of course."

"Of what?"

"That you are useful or not." I didn't know if it made me a less human being when she said those things to me; because obviously I didn't care. I thought that my time with her was too precious to waste it in pointless thoughts.

"Ready? I brought my deck of cards. Let's play." She unpacked the cards and shuffled them.

"Blackjack." I said.

"Is that your strong point?"

"I don't know. I like it better."

"Ok, we will try later with poker."

"Ok."

She started to deal the cards.

"Another?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Twenty-one. That's weird… you won." She was impressed.

"Yes."

"But, how? You weren't counting, were you?"

"Probability that's all I win," I said to her with a smile, trying to look calm.

"Oh… I can barely count. Percentages are too difficult for me. My strong point is poker and reading faces. I'm very good at it." Yes, I knew that much.

She kept dealing and I kept winning.

"Ok, how do you do it? I just can't understand. It's so fast. I deal so fast. What if I change the packs of cards for a new one? What if I use two packs or three?" she teased me.

"I still can do it."

"Let's try. Lucky me, a gambler always needs to carry two packs of cards just in case."

She unfolded the other pack and mixed the cards again and started to deal. I kept counting 52x2= 104 cards, taking 3 cards that makes 44200 possible combinations and 265200 permutations. I didn't need to memorize the combinations and permutations; this was different. I didn't have a limit. I was calculating and working fast in fractions of a second. Like one plus one to stratospherical levels made in mere seconds.

I won one game after another, before she suddenly stopped.

"This is… what are you?" I couldn't read her face, she was surprised or scared?

"I don't know what do you mean?"

"I've never… where have you been all this time? It's just crazy. You count and do this crazy shit calculating probabilities in your head. I've never seen someone do this before, not this fast at least. And you've won each and every game we've been playing." She checked her watch, "almost four hours straight! You are like a genius or something?"

And in that moment it occurred to me that she didn't know my 'condition'; that I was close to a robot or an emocionally handicapped man. What if I told her? What if she thinks less of me? She thought I had potential. If I were to say the truth—that I have this problem—she would make fun of me or worse she would leave me. I can't afford that. I can't tell her that I can't read emotions; that I can count numbers as a side-effect to my not-so-pleasant condition. She will think I'm a less of a man. A freak. She will reject me. So, I made the choice of not telling her, ever. And I hoped that she never would find out.

"Something like that." It wasn't that bad, just a little lie. It wasn't that far from the truth, I was just saying that I was really smart, because I am. I only left out some of the truth behind. So, no damage and nobody gets hurt. She is appeased and I'm content with what she's offering. A win-win situation by 75% probability, give or take. I was giving percentages to our relationship… work relationship, if I might add. That's the way I did my emotional interaction; my introspection of how to deal with this situation. She didn't seem aware of my internal war. She just sat there smiling. I wished I could know what she was feeling; to read if she was happy, exited or being greedy or all of the above.

"Edward, we have a deal?" She extended her hand. I did the same.

"Deal." I said, happy and sleepy.

"Good, now we need to sleep. It's almost 4am, you are working today?"

"Yes, my shift starts at 11am."

"Fine. So, let's meet again today. Is it ok with you?"

"Yes, it's fine."

"Call me after your shift ends—as soon as you go out. Don't be late," she scolded me… I think.

"Yes, I will."

"Come on, let's go. I'll pay, and you'll walk me home?"

"Of course."

"Thanks. Today is a good day, Edward."

"Yes, Bella." I noticed that this was the first time I said her name in front of her. She noticed too and smiled. I knew two things about feelings in this life. One, they usually shift really quickly, two, they can only do harm. But now, I knew another thing; Bella's smile was capable of making me feel the happiest I've ever been in my whole life.

End Notes:

Ok you'll see more of Emotionless"Edward, because the idea it's not express too much, he is not perceptive, and if for a regular people read emotions it's hard, for Edward is really impossible, he is only guessing, so maybe what he said related with external human emotions (Bella) in here is not the reality at all, keep that in mind.