Author's Note: Thank you to Hezpixie and Mac214 for that ass-rape of a beta. Dear Mac: I use Canadian spelling! I am a rebel dammit! And Hez included the following beta note: This is awkward. FIX IT BITCH! Ahem, I love you both. Thank you for making me a better writer. Special thank you to FL95 for making me a banner for this fic! Are you reading her stuff? OMG you should be.
Facebook Status: Gonna cut a bitch
My eyes were glued to my iPhone as I scuttled down the stairs. The stupid Tweetdeck app was being a little bitch, refusing to update.
"Shit and fuck and stuff," I muttered lazily, unable to muster enough emotion to formulate a proper curse. Well, it seemed Effexor was successful at achieving apathy in a teenage girl; someone should award Pfizer a fucking Nobel Prize in medicine for that shit.
Thud! At the bottom of the stairs, I found myself flat on my ass. Somewhere above me hovered the arm of Charlie's sofa and a leg that jutted out hazardously.
"Fucking ow!" I yelped and punched the offending foot with a limp fist. "You legged me in the crotch!"
"Hey, that tickles." Jake complained, kicking the leg that hung awkwardly off the side of the couch.
"You're sleeping on my couch?"
"What are you doing?" he asked groggily.
"Tweeting you..." Hm, I guess I could stop doing that. "Dude, you didn't have to do that. You're way too huge to be sleeping on that tiny seventies throw-back of a sofa." Conversations were so difficult in real life. My generation had serious issues stringing more than 140 characters together.
Jake rubbed his eyes in confusion, his dark hair falling over his brow in messy strands. "It's fine," he said hoarsely.
I hated the way he was looking at me, like I was pathetic — a freak show. Jake never treated me like a carnie before. This inequity between us was new and terrible to me. Before he knew the truth about Phil, Jake always had me up on a pedestal, and sure, over the years, the pedestal had gathered dust, but he was pretty clear about his feelings about me. Fuck, my legs started to tremble just remembering the other night at First Beach; the kiss, and the incredible feeling of Jake growing hard between my thighs.
It didn't matter. There was no way in hell he would ever want to touch me again. It was a shame, really, the way I wasted our first kiss by acting like an emo douchebag. If I had known that would be our only kiss, I would have taken the time to actually live in the moment and enjoy myself.
"People must have been freakishly small in the dark ages of fashion. It was likely due to malnutrition or some shit. You know, from all the liberal drug use and unprotected fucking. Syphilis and LSD—" Jake's hand covered my face, effectively silencing my sad little rant.
"Bells, could I get some coffee at least before you start waxing retarded?"
He removed his hand from my lips, and I said, "Avoid the clap."
"Oh my god, you're such a freak!" His smile cut off and his eyes widened, the last word of his sentence reverberating through the tiny house. The room had morphed into a mausoleum. "I mean, not that you're really a freak or anything…just that you're saying silly things."
"Jake," I whispered. "Could you leave please?"
"Honey, no. You totally misunderstood me." He tried to pull me into his lap, but I made my body rigid.
"Yeah, see, I don't think I did." There was no fucking way I was going to let myself cry. "Can't you just forget what I told you, Jake?" I took a deep breath and cringed, "...about Phil."
"I really think you need to talk to someone about this."
"No! Therapy is a load of bullshit. You think confessing your secrets cures you of your demons? It doesn't. It unleashes them. Repression is the healthiest way to deal with unpleasant shit; repression and inappropriate humour." To emphasize my point I added, "Wanna do it?"
"Huh?"
"I just offered you my sweet, nubile little ass."
"Um...what?"
Oh my god, he was practically brain-dead. "Fuck," I clarified. "Would you like to fuck?"
"Stop it," he grumbled and stretched his arms toward the ceiling, the muscles of his very naked torso rolling under his skin. "You're not funny."
"I think I'm fucking hilarious. Also? I'm tired of this bullshit. I just want to be a normal girl and do something a wonderfully normal girl would do, like fuck her boyfriend." Oh shit! "I mean, not that you are...my boyfriend. Just, you know, you're a guy and..." Fight or flight, fight or flight?
An obnoxious grin spread over Jacob's stupid face. "You want me to be your boyfriend?"
"Dude, I just asked you to fuck me, and that's what you're choosing to smile about?"
He jumped off the couch and tackled me, pushing me down into the carpet. Gasping, I grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back. I was about to yell "say uncle," but Jake must have thought I was pulling him toward me. He groaned and buried his head against my neck, ignoring my hair pulling altogether. At first, he did nothing but pant hot little breaths against my skin.
"Jake," I whispered. "I know you're probably freaked out by what I told you and stuff...but I just want things to be normal between us." My voice trembled. He lowered his face to my shoulder and nuzzled against me, pulling my shirt down slightly by the collar. The back of my shoulder had a dimple that I always hated. A tiny sigh seemed to rumble out of him as he continued to breathe against my skin, his mouth hovering just above the hated shoulder dimple. Still he didn't kiss me. "I know you don't think of me that way, but do you think you can try? I mean, I don't want to beg or anything, I just...fuck."
"You think I don't find you sexy?" Jake stopped cuddling against me and looked at me with wide, astonished eyes.
"I know you don't."
"You know nothing," he growled. A shadow fell upon me, and it took me a minute to realize his face was connected with mine. His mouth was hot and wet against my own. Inexplicably, he tasted like black liquorice and tobacco. Sucking his lower lip into my mouth, I wrapped my arms around his neck and moaned quietly against him. He echoed my moan and rubbed the small of my back.
He gasped in a breath and held it, as if he was trying to concentrate on staying in control. Fuck, that was hot...and fuck if I didn't whimper when he pulled away from my mouth, keeping my face cupped in his hands. "I adore you, Bella." The words sounded like prayer.
"Jake, you don't have to say that...but thank you." I hugged him, relishing in the heat of his body and the way his strong muscles felt under my palms. "I gotta go."
"What? Where?"
"Calm down, Cassanova. I'm just registering for school."
"Oh, alright." He stood awkwardly, grabbing a pillow off the couch and holding it over his stomach.
"You're hiding a boner, aren't you?"
He shrugged. "Yeah...like I said, you're such an asshole for thinking I didn't want you."
-({})-
The silver fucking Volvo was behind me again! Edward. Oh, god, I shouldn't have been so excited to see his car, considering the fact I just swapped spit with Jake, but I couldn't help myself. Something about that boy just seemed to call out to me...like a siren song... like the mermaids in T.S. Eliot's poem "The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock."
He sang to me.
That was really poetic and shit.
My knees turned to mush as I pulled into the parking lot of Forks High. What a lucky coincidence this was! Most other students would have registered for school already, but Edward must have been away or something this summer.
As soon as I wrenched the gearshift into park, I grabbed my notepad from the glove box of the Dodge-Beast.
Quickly, I scribbled out a few lines of poetry, becoming obsessed with the image of the sea. I have heard the mermaids singing each to each. As long as I italicized my reference to Prufrock, bogarting Eliot's stellar line was only an allusion, not plagiarism.
Edward and a little dark-haired girl emerged from the Volvo, and my stomach dropped. Was she his girlfriend? He noticed me sitting frozen in the front seat and waved.
"Fuck," I muttered to myself, crawling over the parking brake and kicking open the passenger door.
"What was that," Edward asked with a silly grin. Actually, he looked kind of distracted.
"Oh, my door is stuck so..."
"Oh my God, Edward, go inside, and get this the fuck over with!" That little dark-haired cunt hissed, causing his beautiful face to pucker in annoyance.
"This is my sister, Alice." Just his sister!
"Hi, Alice."
"Yeah, don't bother." She had the audacity to roll her eyes at me.
"I'll be back...Bella, do you want me to pick-up a registration package for you too?" Edward's voice was apologetic.
"Um...sure. Thanks!" I beamed. He turned away, and I tried to discern the shape of his ass beneath his charcoal pants as he swaggered toward the school.
"What the fuck are you wearing," the perfectly-coifed demon snapped, wrenching me away from my fantasy.
"Um…jeans." I looked down at myself to make sure I hadn't accidentally dressed myself in excrement. I mean, she held her nose in such a way as to suggest that I quite literally looked like shit.
"Those aren't jeans."
"Yeah-huh!" Denim equals jeans, yes?
"Who makes them?" She wasn't looking at me anymore as she asked this. She was clacking away at the screen of her iPhone 4. Okay, I couldn't give a shit about her stupid expensive clothes or malevolently shiny hair, but fuck if I wouldn't give Jake's left nut for that phone. Well, maybe not his nut since I had certain designs on that general area, but at least a finger or something.
"Um, who makes my jeans?" She nodded distractedly. "Well, they're from Old Navy, so they were probably made by a ten-year-old in China."
"That's disgusting." She glared at me, and I felt ashamed of my comment.
"Look, it was a bad joke—"
"Old Navy! No wonder you look like utter shit."
"Oh my god, you really are an evil bitch!"
She dropped her phone into her colourful purse and artfully brushed her glossy hair behind her ears. Where Edward was all strong angles and messy hair, Alice looked like her face had been sharpened with a knife, like I could cut myself on her the eerie smile that stretched across it."You just committed social suicide."
The maniacal laughter that poured out of me served to freak her out very well. She ran toward the school, while I sat beside my truck on the curb, staring at my scars.
I have heard the mermaids singing each to each. I do not think they sing to me.
Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. I need constant feedback or I'll wither and die...I really do want an iPhone 4 but I'll have to settle for the vibrations your reviews leave on my old iPhone. Please review me?
ALSO: I'm writing a collab with the world famous author, Mac214 (in which I totally use American spelling). The first chapter is posted on both of our profiles but we'll be moving it to our collab profile, MacFlan (aren't we clever?). Sweet Tooth incorporates our two favourite things: porn and cake.
Finally: I've received four requests this week to use "Shit and fuck and stuff" from various fanfic authors. Yes! Always feel free to use anything I write, as long as you credit "BellaFlan." Also, please let me know that you've used it!