Bella was ready to deck Mike Newton, but kept her face casually composed, instead tagging the box of energy bars in front of her. Why they needed to be individually labelled, she had no idea, but Mrs. Newton had asked her to do it, so…
"And when you put it into third gear, it positively purrs…"
Beep me, Bella thought. If my ears aren't bleeding by the end of this shift, it'll be a miracle.
The jingle of the bell over the door made Mike stop talking.
Miracles do happen, Bella thought, still intent on her pointless task.
"Hi," a flatly intoned, but beautiful voice called.
Bella looked up, and Mike scurried away with a mumbled, "'scuse me."
Rose was standing at the entrance way, her own face technically formed in polite lines, but with the makings of a sneer growing. It reminded Bella of the look Jacob would make when she saw him after she'd been with Edward.
"Hi," Bella said, somewhat mechanically. What was Rose doing here?
"Esme sent me," she said, still looking around distastefully, "to get some things for our...camping trip."
If the displeasure wasn't dripping off her tongue, Bella didn't know what was.
Maybe venom, the thought came, unwillingly.
Bella had never seen Rose here before.
"Sure," Bella said, "what do you need?" She put down the last bar in its box, and shelved it on her way to meet her.
Rose held out a piece of paper.
It wasn't Esme's writing on it. No, it was Edward's. The distinct loop of his 'p' and the perfect slant of his letters, a model of ancient schoolhouse discipline, were as recognizable to her as he was.
She took it, pinching the edge, knowing she'd have to return it, not wanting to send it back covered in the temptation of her smell.
"Do you want me to grab this for you?" she asked, a little nervously. Rose had never liked her, and the tolerance hadn't grown since she'd ended things with Edward. Alice had only politely alluded to discord in the house, but it was enough. Alice's phrasing, Rose was not pleased, was easily translated: pissed as hell.
"No," Rose said, looking at Bella like she was stupid. "I'll pick it myself. Just point the way."
Fine, Bella thought, resigning herself to Rose's angry condescension. She didn't think she'd be here long.
"Here," she said, gesturing to the small section that hosted the dehydrated foodstuffs.
"Ugh," Rose said, almost to herself, stuffing several bags into her basket.
"Water purification tablets are this way," Bella said softly, knowing she could practically just think it for Rose to hear.
More angry stuffing.
This went on for a few minutes, Rose acquiring a new basket when the first one was filled.
"Heading out on a long camping trip?" Bella asked, just to prod Rose a bit. Knowing she'd answer.
"Obviously," Rose said, not bothering to roll her eyes.
"All of you?" Bella persisted. Hell, if Rose was going to be miserable, she might as well get as good as she gave.
Then Rose smiled, just a small curling at the corners of her mouth. "No," she said, pretending to decide between brands of energy bars, emptying the contents of the box that Bella had just labelled into her basket. "Edward, and Alice are staying behind. Something about keeping an eye on things here in town." Then she looked directly at Bella, watching the reaction.
Bella's stomach dropped a solid inch. They were?
"Or on each other. Whatever," Rose said, standing up from the crouch she'd used to gather things from the low shelves. It was like watching a lion rise to devour you.
Out of an abundance of caution, Bella took a small step back.
Rose's smirk grew.
"Anyway," she said, "I had other reasons for coming to town."
"Oh?" Bella asked, eyebrows raised cautiously.
The store was still deserted. Mike had disappeared into the storage room, supposedly to complete inventory—which Bella knew he hated. He found the Cullens as alarming as most other people, none more so than Rose and Jasper.
A most unwelcome thought scurried across the forefront of her mind: was Rose here to...do something? Bella knew she'd always seen her as a danger. She wouldn't...take matters into her own hands, would she?
"I heard a happy rumour that your truck had died."
What?
"Um, yeah," Bella said, still turning over the uneasy possibility her mind had suggested.
Rose looked at her nails, flicking a bit of something out from under one of them. They were perfectly manicured, their curves lethal and elegant.
"Don't suppose you'd mind if I verified this bit of happiness, would you?" Rose asked, still not meeting Bella's uncertain gaze.
Bella blinked.
"You want to look at my truck?"
She felt stupid, asking such a question of the creature in front of her.
"Yes," Rose sighed. "Much as I find it an affront to the definition of the term, I'd hate to miss an opportunity to restore its use to you. My brother would be so pleased."
Ah. All became clear.
Two birds, one stone.
She was attempting to repay her debt to Bella. For rescuing her brother.
And giving it to Edward all in the same go.
Wow. Only Rose.
"You know where I live," Bella said. It wasn't like she needed to be there for it.
Rose found her gaze again, but this time the eyebrow was raised in legitimate questioning. "Think it might be a bit odd, me showing up there without you. And we all know it won't do to draw attention to ourselves." These last words were spat out with precision, and bitterness.
Bella sighed.
More time with Rose. Awesome.
"I'm off in half an hour," she said, pretending to check her watch, confirming what she already knew.
"I know," Rose said, pulling out a wad of cash from her purse, and handing it to Bella, who was now sliding Rose's purchases towards her. "See you outside, then." She turned, and walked away.
Bella put the substantial overage into the almost empty tip jar, frowning, drumming her fingers on the counter.
The store was quiet now, except for the muffled sounds of Mike's work in the back. When her shift was done, she had to call him several times before he came out.
"Oh," he said, "didn't hear her leave."
No, you wouldn't, would you? Bella thought, but spared him her overt exasperation. Most people, she reminded herself, did find the Cullens unsettling.
"See you tomorrow," she said, grabbing her bag.
"Wait, Bella, I'm off soon, too. Um, want to maybe—?"
Bella didn't let him finish, hurrying out, "Rose's waiting for me, sorry Mike, gotta run. Talk tomorrow!"
Then she did, trotting for the door, relishing the fresh air that hit her as she left, making herself not glower at the shiny red sports car waiting, rumbling on idle, in the lot.
Bella barely had her seatbelt on before Rose was whipping the car into reverse, and then planting Bella back into the leather with the force of her acceleration.
"Does he pant after all girls, or just some?" she asked. "I don't normally pay attention to the puppies," she added, by way of explanation. This was all said with overt distaste.
Did she actually want an answer?
"Not sure," Bella said.
"If you don't like it, I can always talk to him—"
Bella had a frightening vision of what 'talking' would look like with Rose, and blurted out, "No!" before Rose could continue.
With an eyeroll, Rose replied, "I wouldn't do anything bad, just stun him a bit. Give him something to drool after that he can't have. It'd keep him off your tail for a while."
If Bella didn't have whiplash from the car ride itself, she was sure she'd have it from the conversation alone.
"I'm, uh, good," she said, "but thanks."
Rose snorted derisively.
They were at Bella's house in minutes.
The truck was covered, like a corpse, in a large white tarp.
Rose whipped it off, and had the hood open in a second.
Bella looked around nervously, hoping no one had seen the rapidity of her movements.
"No one's around," Rose said, "trust me, I wouldn't risk exposure for this...thing."
She disappeared in a flurry of movement, pulling things from the trunk of her own car, the sounds all clunks and rattles and the screeching of rust loosening its hold on things.
"Wow," Rose said finally, holding out something that looked warped, and melted. "Did you not change your oil regularly?"
"No, very regularly. Jake…" and she stopped, the little lump at her throat making it difficult to talk. She was still angry with him, but more than anything, aggrieved at the loss of their friendship. "He warned me to change it more than usually recommended. I did."
"Well," Rose said, shaking her head, "I've never seen engine parts fuse like this, without neglect." Then she looked at Bella accusatoringly, like she'd just charged her with abusing a child.
Rose dug further into the cavity. "Ah," she said, pulling out the culprit. It was charred and warped. Rose named it, but Bella only caught that it was syllabically complex. "Not your fault," she said, "I'm surprised your," and she paused, reaching for a word that wasn't 'dog', "mechanic...didn't replace that."
If she'd let him look at it, like he'd asked, he likely would have.
"Unless you have an entire spare engine kicking around," Rose said, "then yes, sadly, your truck is irreparable."
Bella tried to hide her disappointed sigh, but didn't quite catch all of it as it escaped her lips.
"Sorry," Rose murmured, reassembling the pieces that she'd laid out on the tarp.
Charlie hadn't looked hopeful, earlier in the week, when Bella'd asked him to help her see if she could get the truck to start, wincing at the sound it'd made when he'd tried to get it to turn over. She hadn't held out much hope, but there'd been some. There was no doubting Rose's skill.
"Thank you for looking," Bella said, "I appreciate it." The local shop would've eaten her savings, if she'd taken it in. And with her and Jake not on speaking terms...
Rose felt an unexpected stab of sympathy, but hid it, shrugging, and saying instead, "I'll deliver the happy news to my brother."
She watched Bella's face flush angrily.
"Don't worry," she told Bella, "he won't interfere. Much as he'd like to."
It wasn't that, though the thought of him doing so made the flush deepen. It was the fact that he so clearly still kept tabs on her, despite what she'd asked.
"Sure," she said, and decided that their interaction had gone on long enough. "Take care, Rose." Then she turned, and went inside, leaving Rose to the task of putting the corpse of her truck back together.
The thunk of its hood closing, just seconds later, told her Rose had dispensed with all human pretense. The growling purr of another engine confirmed it, and Bella was alone.
Just me, and my dead truck, she thought. How apt a metaphor for what she was, in comparison to the perfection of her future family. A precariously assembled bit of ambulatory flesh, ready to stop moving at the slightest touch of superior, and crimson machinery.
Like Victoria, or the Volturi.
She shook it off, and began the necessary business of making dinner, allowing her natural clumsiness greater reign as she banged and clunked pots about.
All in good time, she told herself. All in good time.
Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.