"Come on," Marie said, "haven't you ever been to a protest before?"
"No," Bella said, considering the various reasons why: not having a reason to, and not wanting to anger Charlie.
"Well," Sam said, "I think a nice, safe, orderly 'take back the night' march is exactly what you need."
Bella sipped her tea, having given up on trying to read. Rare sunshine flooded the high windows of the dining hall, and she was enjoying the prospect of an unscheduled Saturday. She sighed. "When?"
"Six tonight. It'll be dark enough," Sam said, chugging back her coffee.
"OK," Bella said, hoping they'd forget, hoping they would leave her to her book.
"I'm holding you to this, Swann," Marie said, then whispered conspiratorially, "You'll love it!"
Loving a protest. Right. Marie clearly had very different ideas of what fun entailed.
As they walked away, she settled into her book, only looking up when her phone buzzed on the table. And then again. There were several messages. All of them from Edward.
She hadn't seen him, but considering what he'd said when they'd last talked, she expected he was lurking rather than leaving her to her own devices.
Her hand hovered over the phone, before picking it up to look more closely. The texts read: I'm sorry. I've been respecting your wishes this last while. Alice can confirm. Can we meet to talk?
She blinked, stunned.
He had?
She texted Alice immediately, misspelling several words.
The reply was instant: And you want to be an English major. Tch. Yes, he has. There was a smiley face at the end.
Bella's heart made a small leap, and then it tripped over itself and sunk into her stomach.
Had he seen what happened on Tuesday?
Very likely, the logical part of her mind answered. The snarkier part said, well duh.
Had that been what it took?
A wave of self-loathing and revulsion shivered up her. No, she told herself. No. You aren't being manipulative. It's his own fault for seeing something he shouldn't have. If he didn't want a relationship built on mutual respect, what did he expect to have happen?
The hurt that lingered, never too far from the surface, waved eagerly at her. Yes, she reminded herself, he wanted her human, and not because it meant they would be equals.
If she wanted to know what it meant to be with someone, to make that choice when the time came, then she needed to know. And not just in theory.
She thought about Jun and how much she'd enjoyed their time together. He couldn't commit to anything, and neither could she. It was, in some ways, perfect. They could simply be.
It was startling in the extreme, when Jun's message that popped up next: Dinner, tonight?
She didn't hesitate: Sure, but later. Off to protest something.
She imagined the laugh that would elicit.
His response was quick: Protest "something." Sounds important. K. 8?
He sent along a location, too.
Yes, she typed back.
A protest, and then dinner. Just about the stretch of emotional extremes she was feeling.
Edward's text arrived next, interrupting this rumination. She laughed. Could this get any weirder? Lunch, Tuesday? It asked.
Sure, Bella wrote back. My treat. Pizza. Then she sent the address: where she and Jun had eaten last. Let him chew on that.
Wonderful, he replied. Looking forward to it.
Bella felt an uncomfortable squirm. She wasn't. She felt like him backing off required something of her.
No, she told herself firmly. It didn't. She'd been clear in the spring. A year. Then, and only then, would they consider anything else.
She spent the rest of the day trying to get lost in her book, but couldn't, too jittery. When Marie knocked at her door at five, she was dressed more for dinner than protesting.
Sam, strolling towards them, eyed her with a speculative eyebrow. "Don't get out much, hey Bella?" she asked.
"Thanks, friends," Bella said, with emphasis, "I have dinner plans afterwards."
"Ah, right. Well, OK." Marie and Sam looked at each other meaningfully.
"What?" Bella asked, narrowing her eyes.
"It's a protest, Bella," Marie said, as if she was explaining this to a young child. "You know, loud and disruptive, and sometimes messy."
"Messy?"
"Sometimes people are there protesting against protestors?"
"And?"
"They throw shit."
"They throw shit?" Bella asked, alarmed.
"Not literally, no, but stuff. Maybe pack a change of clothes?"
Bella was rapidly reconsidering these plans.
"No, no no! You are coming with us. Come on." Sam was pushing her towards her backpack, and then pointing towards her closet.
Bella sighed, but obligingly packed another outfit. Just in case.
Their worries were unfounded. While there were a few counter protestors, they were mostly loud, not projectile laden.
They marched together, the crowd large, but peaceful. There were families there, Bella noticed with interest.
As the crowd swarmed on, though, the mood shifted, and there were fewer families, and the chants louder, and more shrill. Bella had eyed the police presence, quiet, and observant at the edges, but it was more prominent now.
"Hey," she said to Marie, "they look awfully touchy," and lifted her chin towards the line of police hedging up the north side of the street.
"Don't worry about it," Marie said, dismissing her look, but Sam was eyeing them nervously. She didn't have the immunity Marie's and Bella's skin colour afforded them, and was hanging back in the crowd.
"I think she's right, Marie," Sam said, "this is starting to get less than pretty."
It was at that point that someone, somewhere in the crowd, threw an empty beer can at one of the police officers.
The response was instant.
There were shrill whistles, and they were being yelled at through a megaphone to disperse. Some people in the crowd were, but others were pushing forward, and Bella and her friends were caught between them.
They found themselves being shoved up against a line of newly arrived police, each with a shield in front of them.
Bella caught Marie and Sam's hands, not wanting them to be seperated, and started to pull them to the side, trying to move diagonally against the tide of people. They were almost to the edge, when the surge pushed them up against the last few officers.
One of the uniformed men took offense at the brush, and yelled at Bella, "Get out of here!"
"We're trying!" she shot back, unimpressed by his rudeness.
The crowd's movement shoved them again. "I mean it!" he roared, his baton in hand.
Bella caught a good look at his face, florid with anger. She didn't respond, but kept her hold and Sam and Marie, finally pushing through to the edge, where they could move freely.
"Jackass!" Marie called back.
Sam moved away, angrily huffing, "come on," behind her.
"Pig!" Marie kept going.
Bella yanked at her arm, seeing the officer turned towards them, one foot poised to move after them.
Marie only hesitated a little when Bella pulled her into a quick jog.
When they were a safe few blocks away, Sam turned on Marie. "What the hell Marie? Do you have any idea how stupid that was? You don't taunt police officers!"
"What are they going to do, arrest me?"
"No, they'll beat the shit out of us, and call it fricking crowd control!"
This angry tirade continued, Bella watching anxiously, trying to stick words in between them, but only earning angry rebuffs.
She was so focused on them that she didn't hear the quiet "Hey," behind her.
It was the finger gently tapping on her shoulder that got her attention.
"Jun!" she said, turning around.
"Hey yourself," he smiled. "Thought it would be hard to find you, but uh, well, you're attracting a fair bit of attention."
Bella looked around. People were staring at Marie and Sam, still fighting. One had a camera, and was snapping pictures.
"Sam, Marie?" she said, this time very quietly. "Let's go."
Caught by the tone of her voice, they turned to look at her, still flushed and angry with each other.
"Oh, hey Jun," Sam said first, breathing heavily.
"Hey," he said. "You guys want a ride back to campus?" he asked, sweeping his gaze around the street.
Marie was beginning to look less tomato like, and more chagrined. "Maybe that'd be a good idea," she mumbled.
It was an awkward ride back to the dorm, but it lightened considerably when Marie and Sam climbed out with glum "thank you's."
Jun looked at her, sitting in the front seat of the car. "Protesting, huh?"
Bella laughed. "Sure. I guess so. Can tick that off my list."
"Ready for something more sedate?"
"Please, yes. Without angry police officers, too, if you don't mind," she said, feeling a stab of guilt, imagining Charlie in that situation. He wouldn't have yelled, or taken offense, she didn't think, but who knew for sure, until they were faced with something.
"Time to show you the shack, and make you dinner then," he said.
"The shack?"
"Our house," Jun said, "we rent it. It's definitely a bit of shack, but the kitchen works."
He cooks. Excellent, Bella thought.
He didn't just cook. He cooked well. She knew, and appreciated the fruit of his practised skills. "This is delicious," she said, "thank you."
"Nice to have someone who appreciates it," he responded, eyeing his roommates, who raised their forks in thanks, from the couch.
Leo set his plate down, and pulled out a lighter. Then he produced something that resembled a cigarette.
Really? Bella thought. Smoking inside? With dinner?
"Sweet!" Dave said, and put his plate down.
"Want some?" Jun asked, nodding towards the couch.
Bella looked at him, confused. He didn't smoke, she was sure of it.
"Weed?" he asked, clarifying.
Oh.
She blinked.
"Never tried it?" he asked more softly, so Dave and Leo wouldn't hear.
She shook her head.
"Would you like to?" he asked. His face was relaxed, and she could tell it didn't matter either way.
"What does it do?" she whispered.
He grinned. "It's fun. Makes food taste better."
"Definitely not required," Bella smiled.
"Relaxes you. Makes the world slow down. Lets you see things a different way."
Now that sounded interesting.
"Sure," she said. It seemed to be a night of firsts. Why not?
Jun smiled, while Leo cackled, watching her try to inhale. Dave was kinder, explaining what she had to do.
After two puffs, Jun pulled it away, saying, "trust me, you don't want to take too much the first time." He stopped himself there too, mildly affected, wanting to make sure he was sober enough, in case things didn't go well.
Jun had not been lying. Everything slowed down, and all the rapid and anxious thoughts of the last week slid into a slow progression that she could follow one at a time.
They finished their dinner, Bella wondering how it could taste better—because it did, somehow, talking about their days, and their weeks—to some degree. She didn't tell him about Edward's continued presence. He was just a friend in Jun's eyes, after all, and she and Jun were...something fuzzily undefined.
Leo and Dave had disappeared, to where, Bella didn't know, or care. She and Jun had claimed the soft spaces on the couch, he strumming quietly on the guitar he'd picked up from a stand beside it.
"I seem to know a lot of people who do things incredibly well. Don't suppose you play piano too, do you?"
"Yes," he said, "but not all that well. Not Christian Korean boy well." He grinned. "The guitar was my rebellion."
She snickered. "The guitar was your rebellion?"
"Totally. You should meet my family sometime."
That made Bella swallow. Meeting family. It sounded serious.
He caught the shift, and didn't continue, setting the guitar aside. "What was your rebellion?" he asked.
"Didn't have one," she said, appreciating the pattern on the couch cushion. It was a subdued paisley, swirling pleasantly in deep mossy greens, golds, and burgundies. She traced it with her fingers. The fabric's texture was gratifying under her hand. "My mom said I was born middle-aged. All teenage issues largely avoided." She didn't mention practically running away from home, twice. Freaking Charlie out beyond himself.
"I guess that doesn't surprise me," he said, leaning his head into his hand, elbow propped up on the couch back, watching her.
She looked up at him, and recalled, instantly, the feeling of his kiss from the week before. The thought of it was alluring, stradling the edge of forbidden, and allowed. The thinking wasn't far beyond the action, and she pulled herself up, kneeling on the couch, hands a perfect mirror of where his had been, her lips pressed to his.
He responded in kind, and she found herself pulled on his lap, legs straddling his, Jun's hands exploring the curve of her back, her hips, and the comfortable resting place behind them. She took in a breath at his touch. It felt so...intense.
She only half-realized, thoughts blurry with the swirl of the drug, that his fingers were working, kneading at her. It only enhanced all the other feelings.
When her hands slipped under his shirt though, he stopped her.
A well known dread settled in her stomach.
This felt very familiar.
"Bella," he said to her lips as he kissed her again, chuckling. "You're really stoned."
"Yes," she said, kissing him back.
He groaned, but pulled back. "I'm going to regret this when I'm sober, I'm sure, but—I think we should stop."
Bella groaned too.
"I just," he said, "I'd like to think its you wanting this, or anything more, rather than you stoned, wanting this."
Anything more?
"How about," she said, leaning in to kiss him again, "we just stick with this then."
He gave a low and deep chuckle. "I don't trust myself not to do more, when I'm stoned, and—" he sighed, "I really don't want to mess this up."
Bella cursed silently, but nodded. She was having a hard time getting a read on anything beyond wanting him. That was very clear.
And very nice.
He hopped up, before she could make any more moves. "Come on stoner, let's go find some ice cream."
She laughed, but joined him, walking close, hands together as they found their way to the campus creamery, and then back to her room.
"Think you can handle being on your own for the rest of the night?" he asked, as they reached her door.
"You offering to keep me company?" she asked hopefully.
"Are you OK?" he asked, most seriously.
"Yes," she said, sighing.
Then he leaned down and kissed her, catching her airless and wanting.
"Night," he said, turning and leaving.
"Night," she called, not sure it was the right word.
Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.