Chapter 7 - BPOV
Edward did what he said. He took a break. Well, is currently taking a break. I guess. I hope. I hope this isn't forever. He hasn't called, and when I call him, it goes straight to voicemail. I felt like an obsessed stalker the first few days, calling and texting half a dozen times. So I've made myself stop. If he needs a break, then I guess I'll let him have it. What else am I supposed to do? I feel like if I push, he'll back further away. But the hole in my heart grows daily. Without him to talk to, I feel lonely. I've been spending more time at the Union and the library… and the little hidden garden by the North Oval… anywhere to keep myself from sitting in my room, moping and feeling sorry for myself.
Lauren invited me to movie night in the lounge on our floor tonight. I don't know many of the girls who live on Walker 12, but Lauren is nice and funny, so I decide to join in this time. Movie night is another good distraction. It'll hopefully keep me from looking at my phone every five minutes and wishing Edward's name would pop up on my screen.
The only bright side to this break is the fact that I'm completely caught up in my classes and ahead in all of my reading. Midterms were tough because I was still in a state of shock and depression over Edward's phone call. The fact that he should've been here last weekend was also hard, but somehow I've survived. I try to stay positive, repeating Edward's words over and over in my head—I love you, always—I hope he meant them because I know I'll always love him. He's not someone I can forget or remove from my heart. If I removed Edward, I wouldn't have a heart left. He doesn't just have a piece of it. He has the whole damn thing. And I'm okay with that. Loving him is easy. Loving him is like breathing. It's what I want to do for the rest of my life... if he'll let me.
"Bella!" Lauren is sitting on one of the old over-sized sofas in the lounge with a big bowl of popcorn in her lap. She rips open a bag of M&Ms and dumps them into the bowl. "Want some?" she asks, shoving the bowl in my direction.
"Sure." I grab a handful and sit down beside her. "So, what are we watching?"
"Well, Amy just went through a really bad breakup." I look up and see several of the girls making sad, puppy-dog faces and glancing over to a tall, slender girl with dirty blonde hair. Her eyes are a bit puffy, like she's been crying. I'm assuming that's Amy. "So," Lauren continues, "we're watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall." She says this like it's a known fact. "Well, it was either this or Days of Summer, but you only watch that when there's a chance at reconciliation. And..." She drops her voice to a whisper, leaning over toward my ear. "...she needs to drop that douchebag like a bad habit. He slept with two girls from the Tri-Delt house. He's the scum of the earth."
I nod my head like I understand, and I do, in theory, but I've never experienced anything like that.
"Bella also just went through a breakup," Lauren announces, and it's followed by aahs and looks of pity, like the ones they were giving Amy.
"I… I didn't go through a breakup," I tell them, looking over at Lauren with an arched eyebrow, wondering why she decided to out me like that. "I'm on a break. We're on a break." The looks of pity don't go away. Actually, they amplify. One girl even reaches over and pats my leg.
"Commitment issues," one girl on the opposite side of the room says.
"You know that's right," another girl sitting beside her chimes in, nodding and gaining a high five from the first girl.
What?
"A pass for a free fuck," the redhead sitting on the floor beside me says, whipping her ponytail around to face me. "Look, guys say shit like that when they want out and don't have the balls to break up with you. It's easier to say they want to take a break, but a few days turns into a week, and a week turns into a month, and the next thing you know, you see him out with a big-boobed blonde, and he introduces her as his fiancée." She speaks like it's from personal experience, but she can't be a day over nineteen. I chalk it up to too much reality television or those stupid soap operas they watch in here every day like it's a religion.
But her words sit heavy on my chest. Actually, they're trying to come up out of my throat, like I'm going to throw up, but I push it down and force a smile onto my face. "Edward isn't like that. He's mature. He just wants what's best for me." I say the words more for myself than for them. He loves me… always. I want to tell them that, but it sounds pathetic, so I keep it to myself.
The redhead rolls her eyes and turns back around to face the television as the movie starts. "Keep tellin' yourself that, honey."
Their words haunt me for the next two hours. Does Edward have commitment issues? Is he with someone else? Is he fucking someone else? Part of what the redhead said is right. A few days has turned into a week, and one week has turned into two weeks… not quite a month, but still. Edward didn't put a timestamp or an expiration date on this break. And since he won't answer my calls or return my text messages, there's no way for me to know what he expects.
I pull my phone out of my back pocket and look at the screen, hoping that maybe by talking about him, he'll sense it and reach out to me. He could put my fears at ease with one simple push of a button, but there's nothing—no emails, no text messages, no missed calls. No Edward.
~C22~
"Hey, Bella," Lauren says, coming out of her room just as I'm passing by, headed to the elevators.
"Hey, Lauren," I reply, quickly brushing past her. I wish I had time to stay and talk, but I'm going to be late for class if I don't hurry. Professor Styles likes to make an example out of anyone who enters his room late. It's mortifying, and it doesn't help that Eric is in that class. I've successfully avoided him the past few weeks.
"Bella," I hear Lauren say behind me, jogging to keep up as I press the down arrow on the bank of elevators.
"Yeah?"
"Hey, I meant to come down and talk to you this morning, but I got up late."
"So did I. That's why I'm in such a hurry. What's up?" I ask as we both get into the elevator.
When the doors shut, she turns to me with a serious look. "What does Edward look like?"
That's a weird question. "Handsome," I reply, but it comes out more like a question. I don't know why she wants to know or what she's getting at.
She quirks a smile and rolls her eyes. "I figured that much, but like, how tall is he? What color is his hair?"
"Why?" Her questions put me on edge. I don't know why she wants to know so much about him, but I don't like it.
She huffs out a deep breath and pulls her textbook closer to her chest. "Look, there was this guy hanging out downstairs last night when I came home from a meeting across campus." She pauses for a second, biting her lip as her eyebrows pull together. "He asked if I knew you."
My pulse immediately quickens. Maybe Edward is trying to surprise me? Maybe he's changed his mind about the break? But he knows where I live. He's actually been inside my dorm room. I've snuck him in before. Twelve flights of stairs is a bitch but worth it to have Edward alone in my room for a night. I sigh, my mind drifting to happier times.
"Bella?"
"Sorry. So, what did he look like?"
"That's the thing. I know you said Edward is older, but this guy…" She pauses, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't know. He just didn't seem like Edward."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I don't know. I can't explain it. It was just weird the way he was lurking around. When he asked about you, it kinda put me at ease a little. I thought he might be a friend or Edward. But then, after I got inside and was on my way up to our floor, I got freaked out because he was asking about you. He gave me a weird vibe. Something about the way he looked at me and the tone of his voice." She shudders. "I don't know. It was creepy."
"So," I say as we walk out the front doors of the dorms and onto the sidewalk, "what did he look like?" I'm starting to get worried. Edward doesn't give off a creepy vibe. Women flock to him. Fall at his feet. But they are not afraid of him. It's almost like he invites them in, without even knowing he does it.
"Tall, dark blond…"
I stop abruptly, making her words falter.
"What's wrong?" she asks, looking at me with worry.
"Nothing," I say, trying to blow it off and keep my composure, but I can't help taking a look around me. It's daylight. There are people everywhere—students walking to class, cars driving up and down the busy street nearby. He can't get me here. He doesn't know I'm here. He's in prison. I'm safe. Edward wouldn't…
"Bella?" Lauren asks, her hand gripping my shoulder. "Talk to me. You're scaring me."
"It's nothing," I repeat, shaking my head, trying to clear the irrational thoughts popping up.
"You know the guy, don't you?" She tilts her head, and an accusatory look is on her face. "You know who was looking for you."
"It's not Edward," I say quickly. "Edward's hair is darker… brown, with hints of red mixed in."
"So, if it's not Edward, who is it?"
"Maybe that guy from the frat party?" I ask, trying to distract her. I've got to get to class.
"I don't know. This guy seemed way older than college."
Fuck. "Like how much older?" I ask, needing to know everything but not wanting to seem too eager.
"At least mid-twenties, maybe late twenties."
"I don't know." I shrug my shoulder and hoist my backpack up a little higher. "Listen, I'm sure it's nothing. I've gotta go this way," I say, pointing over my shoulder.
"Okay. I've got class over at Felgar Hall." She turns in the direction she needs to go for class but stops and looks back at me. "Be careful." It's a warning, a knowing look… her telling me that she knows I know more than I'm saying. If I were to confide in anyone, it would be Lauren, but I don't want to utter the words. I feel like if I say his name, he really will appear.
I hurry to class, taking the most populated route, even though I'm risking being late. When I glance down and see I have less than five minutes, I start running. I barely slide into my seat before Professor Styles slams the door shut, shooting me a warning glance.
My breaths are ragged, and it's not completely from the running. The more I think about Lauren's words, the more scared I start to feel. The combination of the two has me about to pass out, but I concentrate on my breathing, forcing myself to calm the fuck down as the lecture begins.
"Professor Styles," I call out after class, squeezing between a couple of people who are crowding the small aisle.
"Yes, Ms. Swan? Is this about your tardiness today?"
"Uh, no. I was almost tardy, but not quite," I correct.
"Yes, well, tardiness often robs us of opportunity."
I nod and give him a forced smile. That quote was written on the board the first day we came to class, along with: "The while we keep a man waiting, he reflects on our shortcomings", and followed up with him informing us that more than one tardy and we could excuse ourselves from his classroom for the semester.
"Again, I wasn't tardy."
"Get on with it, Ms. Swan. I don't have all day."
"Yes, sir." I nod, pressing forward. "I have a question."
"Spit it out." He turns to me as he begins to shuffle and stack papers.
"Right, I was wondering, when a person is put in prison for coercion and theft, how long would you say that person would serve in their sentence?"
"How long was the sentence?"
"Six years."
"Were there prior convictions?"
"Only a few misdemeanors but most of those as a juvenile."
He puts the stacked papers into his satchel and closes it up, looking up at me. "Is this a personal matter?"
"Uh, no. It's a, uh, thing we're doing for a, uh… project."
"I see," he says, nodding. "So, this person was convicted of coercion and theft, no prior felonies, and sentenced six years?"
I nod my head.
"Well, I'd guess that if he or she were to portray good behavior, they would probably only serve half of that term, if that."
"So, no more than three years?" I ask incredulously, feeling rage boil within at the prospect that he could get off so easily. He deserved more than he got, and he definitely deserves more than three fucking years. I deserve more than three years of peace and happiness.
"Will that be all, Ms. Swan?"
"One last question."
"Go on."
"What would it take to send this person back to prison?"
He squints his eyes and twists his mouth. "There are several ways, but the quickest would be a violation of parole. I would assume if he had any restraining orders placed prior to the conviction—say, on one of his victims—and he were to violate that order, that would be grounds for immediate re-entry."
"Back to prison?" I ask, needing clarification.
"Yes, that would be likely."
"Thank you, Professor."
"Good day, Ms. Swan."
He turns on his heel and leaves out the side door, while I turn the opposite direction and make my way out front.
The wind is crisp, as the fall is turning quickly to winter. I glance around, taking in my surroundings, making sure no one is following me or waiting for me. My gut tells me the person looking for me is James. I can't say I'm surprised. I always knew he'd probably try to contact me or come after me when he got out of prison. I just didn't expect it to be this soon.
Walking back to my dorm, my mind spins with possibilities and fear. I haven't felt this kind of fear in a while. Not since the day James was put away, and I hate that just the thought of him elicits that feeling from me. I hate that after all this time, he still has that kind of control over me. It's not willful. I try hard to fight it, but the unknown is a scary thing.
A/N:
As always, a big THANK YOU to our beta, GeekChic12! And to Rachel (J Ray Fanfiction) and Pamela (DrivingEdward) for their awesome pre-reading skills!