Disclaimer: These are not Stephanie's vampires.
Chapter Four
Isabella Swan
"When was the last time you saw Paul Russo?"
I quirk one brow at the balding Rent-A-Cop that passes as campus security. "I'm sorry?"
"He's been reported as missing," the cop replies, wiping the sweat from his upper lip with the back of his hand. "When you came in, we assumed you had information on his whereabouts."
Except, the way he says it, it sounds like he's accusing me of something.
For some reason that is simply beyond me, I thought it would be a good idea to tell campus security about what happened with Paul. It seemed like the right thing to do, until the man masquerading as a cop decided that I should be the guilty party, since Paul had apparently gone missing sometime between last night and today.
I cross my arms and sigh at him. "Look, the only reason I came up here was to report Paul attacking me, not the other way around."
The cop frowns. "He attacked you? When did this happen?"
"Last night. Or, well, early this morning. Around two."
"I see."
When he doesn't say anything else, I tug at the scarf around my neck. "Do you need proof? He left this on me," I say sweetly, gesturing to the deep bruises.
The cop's face pales at bit as he examines the finger-shaped bruising that curled around my throat. "And, uhm, that was the last time you saw Paul?"
I nod, winding the scarf around my neck again. I fleetingly wonder if I should mention the wild animal, but decide against it.
Maybe Paul should be mauled by a rabid animal.
Again, served him right.
The wanna-be cop jots down something in his notebook, nodding to himself the entire time. "Thanks for coming in, Miss. When we find Paul, we'll get your…incident sorted out."
I refrain from snorting at his delicate wording.
I mean, it happened to me.
Pretty sure I could handle the nitty gritty adjectives.
I leave without another word, suddenly glad to have the scarf when the biting chill in the air nips at my nose. Truly, I love the fall and winter seasons. But after a warm summer by Washington standards, the sudden cold that literally came out of nowhere was a bit of a shock for the system to adjust to. I remind myself to pick up my heavy winter gear from Dad's this Sunday.
Walking towards the diner – early in the hopes of picking up better tips from the lunch rush – I spot a curvy blond girl dressed in nothing but red pumps and a printed shirt-dress and a wave of envy falls over me. Not for her clothes – even though they were much more expensive than I could ever afford – but for her body.
My own body was too thin, no matter how much I ate. Waifish, Mom had said and she'd made it sound like a good thing. I guess by the standards of beauty for today, it was a good thing – but I wanted full hips and breasts, not the lean, tender masses on my chest or the faint curve of my hips. Honestly, if I didn't want to wear a bra, I didn't have to.
To be clear, I didn't hate my body.
I just hated being cold all the time.
The blond girl enters the diner before I do and I feel my brows reach my hairline – because girls who look like that just don't slum it at the campus' hang-out diner. Against my will, my mind darts to Edward and I wonder if she's meeting him here.
But that's ridiculous.
He'd never even been to the diner – and I would know because I've been working here since I was a freshman.
And why would it matter to me if the blond girl was meeting him here?
He was just a client of sorts.
Nothing to me personally.
Sue greets me enthusiastically when I come in. "Darling girl! You're early! And just on time for the lunch shift," she winks.
I smile faintly at her. "Actually, it's probably good that I'm here now. I need to drop my morning shift tomorrow."
"Short notice," she comments, picking up a plate from Bill.
Bill grunts, agreeing.
I tie on my apron and push the loose hairs off my face. "I know. The offer just came up," I say, remembering that Edward's test was tomorrow morning. I wasn't worried that Sue wouldn't let me off but I hated bringing it up at the last second.
It made me seem flakey.
"No problem, honey," she says, patting my back as she passes behind me with a full tray of grilled cheese and tomato soup. She's walking quickly towards her table, faster than normal now that students from campus are trickling in to get some home-cooking; Sue's diner had everything from milk shakes to comfort food to real down-home country cooking like biscuits and sausage gravy on the breakfast menu. A lot of the kids on campus saw Sue as a surrogate mom while they were away from home and she loved that distinction.
I take on the influx of new customers, several of whom are my classmates, and take orders with a note pad – even though I don't need it. I remember who ordered what but Bill didn't have that kind of memory, so I had taken to short-handing the meal orders for him.
Much to my discomfort, the curvy blond girl was sitting in the middle of my section, in a booth all her own. I might have felt a little guilty for being envious of her body but I shook it off and plastered a smile on my face. "What can I get you?"
And then, the oddest thing.
She simply smiles at me for the longest moment – a familiar smile without teeth.
I don't even think she blinks. She's too still and that smile, while beautiful, is unnerving.
After the too-long moment passes, I clear my throat, tucking my loose hair behind my ears. "Water?" I ask, desperate for some kind of reaction from her. Words. Something, anything.
She blinks, eyes wide, and nods. "Of course," she says, her voice an unintentional purr. "Three, please. And a plate of those delicious looking French fries," she requests.
I jot down the order. "Alright. It'll be right out."
Just as I turn, her exceptionally cool hand catches my wrist gently. "Wait. Could you do me a favor? Could you say French fries in French? I used to remember what they were called but my memory escapes me," she says by way of explanation.
Weird.
But, I don't question it.
"I'm pretty sure it's Pommes frites," I tell her with a single nod. I wasn't pretty sure – I was positive. I'd taken three years of advanced French at UDub so far and I was a natural at the language; something about it had always spoken to me and my accent was nearly flawless. Translating French fries was hardly a challenge.
The girl's face lights up and she smiles as widely as she can without showing her probably perfect teeth. "Marvelous. Even the accent…." She trails off and, when she notices me looking at her oddly, she giggles. "I've never heard it so perfectly," she offers.
"Okay," I say slowly, trying to be polite even though she'd started to truly freak me out.
What was it about today that made ridiculously attractive people talk to themselves like loons? Must be something in the air.
By the time her order is up, there's a well built man sitting across from her on the opposite side of the booth. He looks vaguely familiar – very tall, pale skin, dark curly hair, bright green eyes. I realize with a small amount of surprise that he looks like Edward, even though his face wasn't as lean and his over all build was bulkier. A sibling, maybe? What were the odds of those eyes appearing on another person?
"French fries!" He booms childishly, immediately digging into the plate with gusto. "Thanks, babe," he tells the blond. "It's been forever since I had these."
I hear a dull sound, kind of like something being kicked, and the guy jumps a bit, shooting the blond girl a look.
He glances up at me. "By forever, I mean, like, a week. Not a few decades or anything preposterous like that."
"Of course," I answer, feeling my brows furrow. "Well, if that's all for now, I'll be back with your check when you're done."
They nod at me simultaneously and exchange a heavy look that I can't even begin to decipher. As I walk back towards the counter to clean up a soda spill, I can only think about how odd that entire exchange was.
With a wary sigh, I realize the past few days had been rather odd – and what's worse was that I hadn't had the opportunity to light and 'night yesterday or the day before. I was used to being just a little bit high all the time and now that I wasn't, I was sure I didn't like the stark sharpness of the world around me. I resolved to remedy the situation as soon as I got home and had something to eat.
"Hi," a deep voice says from behind me, suddenly.
I jump, the hair on the back of my neck standing up, and turn to face the man who startled me.
Edward is leaning on his elbows on the counter, an impish smile on his face, one thick brow quirked up. His hair looks ruffled from the wind and it's entirely too attractive – it makes it hard to transform my face into a scowl, but somehow I manage.
"What are you doing, sneaking up behind me like some creep?" I demand, my hands fluttering down to flick imaginary lint off my apron. I don't like being surprised and I hate to admit to being unnerved.
And Edward just did both.
His smile gets wider, though he still doesn't show teeth. "I just said hi. It's a standard greeting, I hear."
I huff at him. "Yeah, when you're face-to-face, Mark Chapman. It's a totally different ball game when you sneak up on someone."
"You're working," he points out needlessly.
"Yeah, I am," I tell him, crossing my arms.
Edward's brow's furrow. "Mark Chapman? The guy who shot John Lennon?"
"Yep."
His mouth drops open a little. "I'm not going to kill you," he tells me seriously – and, if I do say so, with a bit of stunned confusion.
I shrug, picking my rag back up and cleaning up the crumbs from the counter; Edward follows me as I move down the length of the counter, even moving the salt shaker for me, which is kind of sweet. "How do I know that?" I ask him.
"Well," he smiles. "You're not a Beatle."
"True," I concede.
"Secondly, I'm not sixty years old," he says, an odd glint of humor in his eyes.
I feel my smile twist into a smirk. "He's not sixty, either. Fifty-seven," I say, eyeing him critically and trying not to be distracted by his broad chest. "You could pass for fifty-seven."
His hand flies up to his heart and he winks. "You wound me."
Behind him, Sue is grinning and fanning her face, gesturing to Edward and I feel an unfamiliar heat take up residence on my face. I look down in the hopes that the flush wasn't observed and speak abruptly, "Anyway, what did you need? Menu?"
Edward looks down, pulling out his wallet. "Actually, I've been sent to pay the bill," he grins, titling his head to the left where the blond girl and curly-haired guy were sitting.
I hadn't noticed until now, but they were watching the exchange between Edward and I with huge smiles and I suddenly realized that I must not be clued in on some joke. It made me extremely uncomfortable, so I turned away and looked at Edward, who handed me far too much money. I shake my head, giving him back half of what he gave me. "This covers it," I tell him.
He nods, leaning closer. "I know. But I felt you deserved a nice tip after dealing with those nuts over there."
Reluctantly, after much prodding from his side and Sue coming by just to tell me to take the money, I pocket the hefty tip. "Thank you."
A single dimple appears on his face when he smiles this time, one side of his mouth pulling up much higher than the other side. "Don't mention it."
I smile faintly in response. "I'll meet you tomorrow morning," I reply.
After Edward leaves with his friends – or his brother and his friend, I guess – I move to continue my shift. Only Victoria's bright personality is standing at the counter, her body practically bouncing in place. For once, James remains at the table and he looks absorbed in whatever he's studying.
Funny. I didn't even see them come in.
"Who was that?" Victoria whispers excitedly.
"Customer," I tell her, taking the next order from Bill while Victoria follows me.
"Customers usually don't talk to you for so long," she observes with saucy inflection.
I roll my eyes. "What are you talking about? You pester me all the time."
She waves her hands in front of her. "That's different. I'm not checking you out the entire time," she says.
I frown. "He was hardly checking me out. Technically, I was checking him out, you know, doing my job. Taking his money for the services the diner provided. And besides, I'm sure he just wanted to make sure I would be there for his test tomorrow."
Internally, I wonder why a guy who seemed as smart as Edward needed me to take his test.
Maybe he had test anxiety.
This time, Victoria rolls her eyes. "And the subtext of the entire thing was him wanting to fuck your brains out."
"Girl, watch your mouth!" Sue calls from the counter.
Victoria smiles. "Sorry, Sue!"
"But you're right," Sue replies, looking at me with the kind of secret looks only women her age could pull off. "That boy was looking at you like you know the meaning of life."
"You're both insane!"
But the fluttering in my chest that accompanies their observations?
Yeah, that strangely makes me hope that Edward was looking at me like that.
A/N: So, people are being totally weird, right?
SORTA KINDA SEMI-SUPER IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!
If you haven't checked your email, you should! Why? Ah, it's a reply to your Blood review, of course. Weird, right? Well, it seems that this story has become super popular – YAY! – but the downside is that if I continue doing my reply-to-your-reviews-here thing, my author's notes will be longer than the chapters and that's kind of frowned upon by the monitors here at fanfiction lol
BUT with the help of suggestions from cullen freak8888, I have a quasi solution that I think will please everyone...
first review shout out will remain.
you are a "guest" or don't sign in and just use your name, you will automatically be replied to here.
you leave a simple * by your name or at the end of your review, I'll reply here.
you are signed in and don't leave a * somewhere in your review, I'll be PMing you!
So, on to the reviews that fall under categories 1 and 2!
host312 – My story is the best? That's so awesome! Thank you!
papierne . ersatzwelt – Ohh, schweet, Blood is being rec'd? That's so cool! Thanks for telling me! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far!
Guest – I love how you announced the contact lol I laughed!
And super special shout out to the first review of the last chapter, Katherine Jimenez – I'm happy that the title seems to suit the story nicely! Thank you!
Alright, I'm off to watch…something on TV, I guess. Or play Sims3….
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~cupcakeriot
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