Disclaimer: no copyright infringement intended

Chapter 15

21 October 2011

"So I've just finished their costumes, when Isaac suddenly decides he doesn't want to be a cowboy after all," Angela says, leaning against the locker next to mine. I nod as I exchange my Calculus book for my Biology one.

"No, cowboys aren't 'cool' any more," she continues, curling her fingers sarcastically. "Now he wants to be Starscream."

I frown, shutting my locker. We start to weave our way through the crowded hallway. "The Transformer?"

"Yeah." She looks both miserable and annoyed. "Like, right, I can make a Transformer costume with barely a week's notice, no problem."

"What'd your mom say?"

Annoyance wins out. "She's too busy organizing the Pumpkin Patch to be any help, so she just said I have to decide what I want to do. But the problem is, if I make a new costume for Isaac, Josh has said he wants one too, because otherwise it's 'not fair.'" She rolls her eyes. "Not that he wants a new one. I'm basically choosing which brother I want to see throw a tantrum."

"Right," I say, dodging around a group of freshmen. "So what are you going to do?"

"I have no idea." Her expression swings back to miserable. "I mean, I know I should just make Isaac wear the cowboy costume, because he needs to learn to stick to his commitments, and blah blah, but his tantrums last for hours. Josh can be pretty bad, but he calms down so much faster."

We turn down the hall and make our way over to her locker. She fiddles with the combination, looking gloomy. "I just really don't know what to do."

"This is making me kind of glad I don't have siblings."

She laughs, taking out her Biology book and miming bashing her head against it.

In an effort to embrace my new philosophy in life — 'Don't be a social recluse' — I've made the effort to talk to Angela more. She's super nice, and I have to admit, walking with someone down the hallway between classes is kind of great. I finally get why everyone else on Earth does it.

"Anyway," she says now. "Do you have any plans for Halloween?"

I snort. "Not really. Mom always tries to get me to help hand out candy, but I usually just hide out in my room."

She sighs forlornly. "I wish I could do that. Trick or Treating seriously isn't the same when you're the babysitter."

Out of nowhere, something descends on us. Angela lets out a tiny squeak, and I jump as something heavy drapes itself on my shoulders.

I glance up and to the right, where I can see the owner of the something heavy out of the corner of my eye. To my surprise, it's Jasper, arms on each of our shoulders as he leans in between us. He's staring straight back at me with a dazzling grin.

"Who's going Trick or Treating?"

Angela stares at him for a second before laughing. He pulls away, turning us to face him in the process.

"Uhm," Angela says, still laughing slightly, "my brothers."

"Twins, right?"

She lights up, obviously surprised but pleased that he knows this. "Right."

Jasper managed to do integrate himself with zero effort into the chess club. The first ten minutes were a little stiff, what with all of us staring at him in a way that seemed to say, 'What?' and 'How?' and 'What!?', but he masterfully ignored that and went from god-like Cool Person to plebeian Seriously Not Cool Person before our very eyes as he showed Ben the World of Warcraft chess set he had his eyes on.

He seems to be one of those people who can effortlessly meld with any group of people. He should make a career out of it. Maybe go into government, so when the aliens come, he can be the welcome party.

Over Jasper's shoulder, I can see Edward and Emmett. Edward's wearing my favorite of all his hoodies, and he looks so good it's painful. I'm trying not to stare, but my eyes keep flickering back to him. He smiles at me, and my stomach swoops in response.

"Are you taking them?" Jasper says now.

"Yeah," Angela says, loosely hugging her book against her chest. "I was just telling Bella about it. I'm making their costumes, too."

"Wow." He looks impressed. "Do you still have time to make your own and stuff?"

"Oh, I uh, I don't dress up when I take them," she says with a small laugh, glancing at me quickly. She seems to not want to really look at Emmett and Edward, as if talking to Jasper is all the Cool People interaction she can handle in one go.

"No, I meant for next weekend."

"What's next weekend?"

"Best party of the year," Emmett says, his grin big and toothy. Angela can't help but look at him now; her eyes are wider than normal.

Jasper nods, looking pleased. "My parents are actually going out of town this year, too. A special treat, since it's Senior year and everything. I've promised not to make it too big, but you know how these things can be."

Angela and I stare at him in a '... No, seriously, what?' kind of way. I do it mostly because I think I know what they're talking about, but I'm not entirely sure why they're talking about it with us.

Jasper's been having Halloween parties at his house for a few years now. I've obviously never gone, but Edward's told me all about them, and they become the talk of the school in the weeks leading up to Halloween. His parents apparently love it, so they go all-out on the decorations, even spreading out into the forest bordering their back yard to create a kind of outdoor Haunted House.

Rumour has it Austin got so scared in there last year he wet his pants.

"My cousin's buying the keg," Emmett says, conspiratorially lowering his voice. He then looks at me and winks. "Don't tell your dad."

I'm guessing with Jasper's parents gone this year, it's going to include a little less blood-red punch with eyeballs and a little more beer, beer, and beer.

I blink. "Okay."

Edward looks down at the floor, pressing his lips together as he tries not to laugh.

"Yeah, it's going to be great," Jasper says. "Just chip in like five bucks, and you're golden."

Another round of staring commences. I really don't know what to say right now. Does Jasper not realize his party is a Cool People Only party?

His smile slips a little as he glances between us. "What?"

I look at Angela; she looks at me. Who's going to say it?"

After a second, Angela does something in the proximity of a nod before turning back to Jasper. "You want us to chip in money for the keg?"

"Yeah."

"Because… you want us to come to your party?"

Jasper frowns, looking profoundly confused. "I mean… yeah. Why, were you not going to?"

I glance at Angela. Her mouth moves soundlessly for a moment.

"I, uh… I didn't know we were invited," she says.

"Of course you're invited."

We are?

"We are?" Angela says. I'm so glad we're on the same page about this.

"Yeah." His confusion deepens, mirroring Angela's. "Why wouldn't you be?"

"I— I don't know," she says, shaking her head.

"You are. Invited." He points at both of us. "You were invited before, but now I'm making it official. Why did you think you weren't invited?"

Because Angela and I aren't Cool People.

"I mean, we just— No one told us? I don't know." Angela turns to me with a helpless expression, as if seeking backup. I can't offer any, and shrug just as helplessly.

"Okay, now you have to come. You'll tell the guys, right? I want all of my favorite chess-club buddies there," Jasper says, grinning as he reaches forward and squeezes both of our shoulders.

The physical contact takes me by surprise, and I flinch slightly. He turns a curious eye to me, tightening his grip. "You'll come, right, Bella?"

My brain stalls. I can't think of an excuse. "Uhm."

"You should. It'll be fun," Edward says, making us all turn to look at him. He just smiles and adjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

Jasper's lips twitch, but he quickly schools his expression. "Of course you should come. It'll be fun."

I do something similar to a nod, which is apparently close enough for him. He releases my shoulder and gives it a quick clap.

"Great, that's settled then," he says, right as the bell rings. Taking a step back, he gives a cheerful wave. "See you guys later."

We watch the three of them walk away.

"That was weird," Angela murmurs. "Right?"

"Totally."

"And… We're going to the party now. Right?"

"I— Yeah."

I don't want to go. I'd rather get a colonoscopy than go to a Cool People party. My mind immediately starts thinking up excuses. Maybe I could say I'm sick. Like with the flu. No one wants a germy cesspool at a party.

Angela touches my arm. "Come on, we'll be late for class."

I nod absently, watching as Jasper leans into Edward, saying something. Edward stiffens, and immediately gives him a shove. Jasper laughs, dancing out of his way.

I'm glad I'm still watching them when they round the corner; Edward slows his step and looks back over his shoulder, eyes unerringly finding me. The last thing I see before he disappears are his lips, turning up in a soft smile.

01000010 01110010 01100101 01100001 01101011

I sit on the bleachers, alone. Angela was sitting with me before, but she's currently losing her match. Well, Ben's losing it for her. He's hopeless. It's a good thing success in life isn't measured in badminton skills, because he'd be screwed.

The rest of the class is here, too. Not next to me, obviously. They all grouped together further up and a noticeable number of feet away on the bleachers. Angela made it bearable, but without her, I'm just a loser sitting by herself.

Which is great.

We're doing our badminton finals. If you lose a match, you're out. If you win, you're through to the next round. We only have two nets up, which means anyone not playing just sits and watches the games. Which is fine, when you're the one sitting and watching.

But it's going to be mine and Edward's turn soon, and then everyone else is going to be sitting and watching me, and I feel like I've walked into one of my nightmares.

The bleachers thud underneath me. Glancing up, I watch as Edward heads in my direction, leaving Emmett, Rosalie and Lauren where they sit with everyone else. He waves slightly as he comes closer, before effortlessly stepping off the bottom bleacher and sitting down next to me in a seamless move.

"I'm here to talk strategy," he says by way of greeting.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. That's what it's going to look like, anyway." Gesturing with his bat, he says, "Like now, I'm pretending to talk about how these guys suck."

I nod wisely, turning to look out over the court myself. Ben takes the opportunity to yelp and slap a hand to his eye when he catches the shuttlecock in the face.

"And now I'm pretending to say something about something badminton-y." I point vaguely.

Edward hums, flipping his racket so he can tap the handle against the floor. "I agree, and also, I have a secondary point I assume you'll agree with?"

"Oh, definitely."

Edward's silent for a moment, surveying the court. "We're going to fucking crush this."

"Yup."

He continues tapping his racket against the floor between his feet. I look at him from the corner of my eye. I've realized I really like looking at Edward. I've kind of always known that, but now I really like it. He has so many nice angles and straight lines. Knobbly wrist bones, a freckle at the base of his thumb. Prominent knuckles to punctuate each of his long fingers.

I never used to care about knuckles before. Not until I realized Edward has amazing knuckles.

His legs are hairy, and his knees are knobbly, too, but in a strong kind of way. The more I stare at them, the more I want to reach out and touch his skin. I want to run my fingers over the bumps and dips of his stupid, knobbly knees.

I put my hands down on the bench on either side of me, pressing them into the wood and holding on tight.

He catches me looking, and dips his head my way. "Hey – Alice wants you to come over for another movie night."

I snap out of my knee-staring. I should hide my surprise, but I can't. "She does?"

"Yeah. Tonight okay? Our parents will be home, but…" He shrugs.

"Uhm, yeah. I think so. I'll have to check with Mom, but it should be fine." I pause, biting my lip. "Did she really—"

His eyebrows rise when I stop. "What?"

"Did… I mean, did she really say she wanted me to come over?"

"Yes. She said, 'make Bella come over for a movie tonight. I want to hang out with her.'"

I try to take that in, but it's a little overwhelming. Other than Edward, no one's ever said they want to hang out with me. Annoyingly, my face gets warmer, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning.

"Well, tell her I want to hang out with her, too," I mumble.

He looks at me again, a smile growing on his face. He knows exactly what's going on. He playfully taps his racket against my shin. "You're going to hang out with me first. Just so you know."

I roll my eyes and heave a sigh. "Fine, if I have to."

He snorts, looking out over the court. "You didn't mind hanging out with me on Wednesday."

I swallow. No, I definitely hadn't minded that.

"Is that the kind of hanging we'll be doing?"

He bounces the top of his racket against his knee, humming. "Maybe. Would that make it easier to suffer through?"

"Probably."

"Then that's the kind of hanging we'll be doing."

I'm glad our ugly gym-shirts cover our chests, because I can feel mine going all blotchy and red. I'm suddenly very tempted to cancel the chess club meeting later, and make Edward skip basketball practice.

"Cool," I whisper. He glances up at me, the green in his eyes particularly clear in the harsh lighting of the gym. I need to remember that. Edward looks really hot in Gym.

He turns his head back to the court, but not before letting his gaze drop to my mouth for a moment, lingering.

We sit in silence for the remainder of the game. I stare at his knees some more.

All too soon, though, the first round ends, and Coach waves up the other half of the class to take their places on the courts. Shit.

Taking a deep breath, I grab my racket and stand up. A swell of nerves hits me so fast it's like a punch to the gut.

Oh god, this isn't good. This is very, very bad.

I want to throw up.

Edward heads towards the court, easy as pie. I follow on robotic legs. Coach points us towards one of the nets, and then directs Rosalie and Emmett to follow. On the other net, Mike and Jessica square off against Garrett and Lauren.

By the time we're in place, I'm shaking. I tighten my grip on the racket, willing it not to tremble. Looking up, I find myself staring at all our classmates. We're only a tiny little group; logically I know there are only eight people sitting on those bleachers. Logically I know they won't be staring at me the whole time.

But adrenaline is pouring into my system, and the eight suddenly look a hundred strong. My heart pounds a sick staccato in my chest.

I seriously think I might throw up.

I look down at the floor, at the painted lines and the scuff marks. My throat is dry and tight. God, please, don't throw up.

"Listen, Edward, before we start, I just want you to know… " Emmett says, bouncing the strings of his racket against his fingers, "I'm going to destroy you."

Edward laughs, making it as patronizing as possible. I shift on my feet, clenching my hands around the handle of my racket again and again as my stomach churns. "Oh, okay."

"What? I am. Right, babe?" Emmett says, draping his arm over Rosalie's shoulders.

"Right," she says, surprising me by throwing a smirk at Edward. It's the most human expression I've ever seen on her face.

"Please, we'd have a harder match if we were playing against two garbage cans," Edward says, gesturing between himself and me. "You're going down."

I don't want to burst his bubble or anything, but I don't think we'll win after I curl up on the floor in a fetal position.

The game starts, and I'm predictably terrible. I wince as the shuttlecock tumbles to the floor next to me yet again, having sailed right past my racket.

"Shit," I mumble to myself, bending down to grab it. This is so embarrassing.

"You good?" Edward asks behind me. His tone has a level of confusion in it. I haven't been playing amazingly in our other games, but I've been good enough. Now I'm a garbage can.

No wonder he's confused.

I straighten up, eyes landing on the bleachers. I've been avoiding them for the last couple of minutes, because I'm pretty sure I know what I'm going to see, and Gym is humiliating enough without your classmates laughing at you for sucking.

But to my surprise, no one is looking back at me. Maybe no one saw me being an absolute dweeb. My need to barf settles ever so slightly.

I move back into position in front of the net, glancing over at the bleachers again. Angela sees me, and gives me a little smile before turning back to Ben, who's whispering something in her ear. And that's it. No one else seems to care.

Which actually makes sense. Who gives a shit about badminton, anyway?

I can feel Edward's eyes on me still. I haven't answered his question.

"All good," I mumble, and I don't even have to lie very much. The nerves churning my stomach into butter ebb and settle a little more, and then again, and then some. I face forward and make my serve.

Every minute I'm up here, it gets easier. Even when we beat Emmett and Rosalie, and Coach announces it, making everyone look at us, it's kind of okay. Even when Austin and Katie square off against us for the next round, and Mike jeers from the other net that he's going to beat them in the final after they 'wipe the floor' with us, it's fine. Even when Edward dismissively flips him off without checking if Coach is watching, and receives an earful that catches me slightly with the shrapnel, I've been through worse.

I don't fully understand how, but in the end, we're up against Mike and Jessica in the final, and even with Mike in my direct line of sight, I don't suck. In fact, I don't suck so much that we win.

The whole thing. We win.

When Coach blows his whistle, Edward immediately drops his racket and throws both fists into the air with a whoop of victory. Up on the bleachers, Emmett claps sarcastically.

On the other side of the net, Mike limply throws his arms out, staring incredulously at Coach. "Oh, come on," he says, as if he's worried Coach might've lost his mind.

Edward ignores him and turns to me, lowering one of his hands for a high-five. "Told you we'd crush it," he says, slapping his palm against mine.

"You did."

"I'm going to make out with you so hard later," he murmurs. He nods decisively. "Because we're winners."

I press my lips together as I flush. Partly because making out with Edward is my favorite thing, but also because winning, it turns out, feels pretty freaking great. "Okay."

"Give it a rest, Newton," Coach is barking, meanwhile, to a Mike who's grown somewhat more agitated. Looks like he's a bit of a sore loser.

His jaw juts out stubbornly for a second; he glances over at me and Edward before he shakes his head. "Whatever. This is bullshit."

"Hey," Coach says, pointing a finger at him. "Watch your language, or I'll make it a ten-mile run for you. Got it?"

"Got it," Mike bites out, turning away before Coach can say anything else. Edward watches him go with an exasperated expression.

"Every time," he says. "Honestly, the worst part about losing a basketball game is having to watch Mike throw a hissy-fit." He looks after him for a moment longer. "He's such a douchebag."

As if winning a sport-thing for the first time in my life isn't enough, Edward just reaffirmed my own belief that Mike is in fact a giant asshole. Today's freaking great.

Edward turns back to me with a cute little shrug, a grin returning his face to where it was before, glowing with victory.

"I'll see you after school?" he says, in a low voice. At my nod, he gives me another high-five and then turns to help the guys take down the nets. The skin on my palm tingles.

Angela meets up with me as I walk to our locker room. "Congratulations," she says. "I'm so jealous."

"I know, I can't believe we won."

"What do you think Coach will have you do when the rest of us are out running?"

I make a face. "God, hopefully nothing."

Angela nods, holding the door open for me as we step into the locker room. "Yeah, it'd be nice if he just lets you hang out."

"Exactly."

Angela's quiet for a moment, pulling her hair into a bun at the top of her head. "You guys seem to get along."

"Who?"

"You and Edward."

"Oh. Right," I say, heading for my locker so she can't see my cheeks turning pink.

"Don't you live like, right next door to him?"

"Yeah, kinda," I say, to avoid having to explain the layout of our entire neighbourhood.

"Cool," she says. "He seems really nice."

My cheeks get hotter. I'm not used to talking about Edward with people. I don't know what to do with myself. "He is."

She drops the subject there, but it feels like something's going unsaid. I don't know if this means Edward's plan is a lot more efficient than we ever could've imagined, or if he and I are being too obvious. Maybe it doesn't matter.

After taking a quick shower, I hurry through getting dressed. The locker room turns into a gossip corner like clockwork, so I always try to leave before it happens.

"See you later," I mumble to Angela as I pass her on the way to the door.

She turns, still wrapped in her towel as she brushes her hair. "Oh, I'll just be five minutes — wait for me?"

She says it with such a genuinely hopeful smile I immediately can't argue with myself about the merits of waiting or not waiting. Of course I'll wait.

"Sure," I say. I point over my shoulder. "I'll just be outside."

"Okay," she says, grinning before turning back to her hair with renewed energy.

As I make my way out to one of the benches in the hallway, I realize quite suddenly that Angela doesn't really hang out with other girls. Kind of like me, expect she has Ben and Eric and Garrett, which might be why I've never noticed. So she has friends, and a boyfriend, but I don't know if she has friends who are girls.

Maybe I'm not the only one enjoying walking to classes together. I didn't think about that before. Does Angela want to be friends with me? Better, closer friends than we are now?

That's interesting. And really kind of nice, if it's true.

My lips turn up into a gentle smile. Angela wants to be my friend, Alice wants to hang out with me, specifically… It's almost a little overwhelming.

A couple of minutes later, the door to the boy's locker room opens further down the hall, bringing with it a wave of Axe body spray and a swell of noise. It spits out Mike, gym bag slung over his shoulder, closely followed by Austin, Emmett, and finally Edward, who looks weirdly pissed off.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he's asking, planting his feet as the door swings shut behind him. I lean back on the bench, trusting the vending machine next to me to keep me out of their sight.

"What? You have to admit it's kind of bullshit."

"No, I don't," Edward says, just as Emmett chimes in with, "Give it a rest, Mike."

"Oh, come on," he says, in response. I can't see him from behind the vending machine, but his arrogant stance is clear in his tone. "I'm just saying, there's no way she would've won a single game if she hadn't been playing with you, Cullen. That's why it's bullshit. I'm not discrediting your skills or whatever. You're the reason you won. If she'd been playing with someone else, I would've beaten her easily."

I don't breathe. Blood slowly drains out of my head, sickening cold taking its place. My stomach feels like a rock.

Edward's hands are clenched in fists. "She's a good player."

Mike snorts derisively. I want to run up, grab Edward's hand and pull him out the doors, really far, far away. I don't want him to hear what Mike thinks of me.

"'She's a good player'," Mike mimics in a childish voice. "Please. I could beat her with my eyes closed."

Edward's expression darkens. "Clearly not, or you wouldn't be whining right now. You know you being a sore loser all the time is getting really fucking annoying, right?"

Emmett closes his eyes, a resigned look on his face. Mike comes back into my view as he steps right up to Edward, dropping his bag at their feet. He's shorter than Edward, and when he cranes his neck back, I can see the flush of red creeping up from under his collar.

"The fuck did you just say? I'm not a sore loser just because I call bullshit on this," Mike says. "You took on a charity case when you partnered with Swan. Everyone knows it. She wouldn't have won if it wasn't for you, so it's bullshit."

"What are you even talking about?" Edward says, anger putting a strain on his voice. "It's just a fucking badminton game."

"That she shouldn't have won!"

Edward looks incredulous. "Why do you fucking care? Jesus, what's your problem?"

"My problem is that I don't like—"

"Losing? Or losing to a girl?" Edward interrupts, cocking his head slightly to the side. His ears are dark red, and there's a muscle ticking in his jaw. I don't think I've ever seen him angry like this before. "Bella isn't a fucking charity case, and she beat you because she's a good player, not because of me. If that hurts your fragile little ego, that's your fucking problem, dipshit."

"What'd you call me?" Mike asks, his voice dangerously low.

"I said," Edward immediately responds, enunciating carefully and loudly, "you're a dipshit."

Mike shoves him, hard enough to force Edward to take a few steps back. Edward's expression switches immediately from anger to rage, and he surges forward as Austin lets out a shout, and Emmett bulls his way in between them, one arm outstretched against both of their chests.

"Hey!" He firmly pushes Mike back, glaring at him. "Jesus. Chill the fuck out, Newton."

"He started it," Mike growls, shoving Emmett's arm away.

"Oh, what are you, fucking five?" Edward snaps back, anger pulsing from every taut line of his body. "Grow up."

"Hey, Ed? Shut up," Emmett suggests, firmly. Bending down, he grabs Mike's forgotten gym bag and pushes it against his chest. "Both of you, calm the hell down. Do you want Coach to hear about this?"

Edward's jaw muscle keeps ticking, and he doesn't take his eyes off Mike. I'm completely frozen in my seat. Holy shit.

Angela chooses this moment to emerge from the locker room right in front of me. "Okay, I'm ready," she says, hair swinging and lips smiling. Her smile immediately falls when she sees my face, though, and she freezes in her step. She looks back and forth between my eyes. "What?"

She turns to her right, and spots Emmett holding Edward back, other hand outstretched towards Mike. Her eyes grow wide. The door quietly swings shut behind her.

Stomach feeling like a bundle of bees, and breaths tiny and shallow, I stand from the bench. When I turn to face the guys, too, the only thing I can see is Edward and the stricken look on his face. The anger drains from him like air being let out of a balloon.

"Bella?" he says, forehead creasing.

"Uhm…" I say, turning back to Angela. "We can go."

I don't know what to say to him. I don't really want to say anything at all; I just want to plaster myself to his chest for an hour or so, and then make out with him a bit. But that feels like such a primitive response that I don't really know what to do with myself.

"Okay," she says, falling into step beside me as we head for the doors. Austin moves out of the way, and I can feel Edward trying to catch my eye, but I can't look at him. Mostly due to the chest-plastering thing, but also because if I look at him, I have to see Mike, and I really don't want to do that.

The last thing I hear when the door shuts behind us is Emmett saying, "Nice going, genius."

"What was that about?" Angela immediately asks, turning to look over her shoulder. "Were they fighting? Like, fighting-fighting?

"No. I don't know. It was weird." And hot, and weird, and infuriating and embarrassing, and really hot, which is so weird.

She stares at me. "Explain. Details. Give me details."

"They just— I don't know, they were mid-conversation when they came out in the hall. I guess they didn't see me. Mike was being all pissy because he didn't win our match or whatever. Apparently he thinks it's unfair."

Angela's eye roll is so expressive I can almost hear it. "He's such a douchebag."

"Yeah. Then Edward called him a dipshit, and it kind of went downhill after that."

Angela glances back over her shoulder one more time. "Wow."

"Yeah," I say. "Wow."

Hey, guys. Thanks so much for reading. See you next time.

xx Vic