Chapter 12
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Rose's birthday falls on the first weekend of Ava's and my Spring Break. I let Emmett convince me to let Ava stay the night at my parents' house on Saturday so that I can go out to dinner with Rose and her brother's girlfriend, Alice, to celebrate. It's not often that I get an evening out with food that doesn't include a kid's menu and crayons, and I'm looking forward to the adult time.
Emmett and I drive Ava over to our parents' that evening, where he'll stay for a family dinner before he heads out to do...whatever it is that guys do when their girlfriends aren't around. Which, when it comes to Emmett, is probably something I'd rather not know. He's gross, and once, in high school, I caught him looking at nun porn. Like, slutty blond chicks dressed in habits and getting nailed on the cross. Our relationship is of the don't ask, don't tell variety.
Leaving Ava with my parents isn't something I typically do unless I absolutely have to. My mother takes spoiling to an extreme level, which means loading Ava up on red dye #40 and high-fructose corn syrup. After dosing her up with sweets, she'll hand her over to me the following morning so that I can suffer the wrath of her sugar crash. "It's the perks of being a grandmother," she tells me when I complain.
Ava's already gnawing on a Fruit Roll-Up, and I'm not even out the door yet. "Mother," I say in exasperation. "Really?"
She blows a raspberry at Ava, who's sitting on the counter watching her chop carrots, and Ava giggles crazily. It's already begun.
So on that note... "Welp," I say, withholding an eye-roll. "I'm going to take off. I still have to go home and get ready."
I kiss Ava's tiny nose—my favorite—and whisper in her ear. "Be sweet," I say.
"I always am, Mommy," she says demurely, but I swear I can already see a hint of red-dye-crazy in her eyes.
I wave to my dad and mess up Emmett's hair on my way through the family room. "I'll pick her up around nine tomorrow," I call, letting the door slap shut behind me.
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Rose's car is already in my driveway when I turn onto my street, and I find her in my bathroom, spreading various cases and pots and tubes out across the already cluttered counter top.
"Allie should be here any minute," she says, in lieu of a greeting. "She's bringing you some clothes; thank god."
"Hey!" I protest. "My clothes are fine." I'm wearing my favorite Old Navy jeans and a cotton, fitted Target shirt. I dressed up today in celebration of not having to go to school for an entire week, thank you very much.
Rose snorts and commands me to "get my ass in the shower."
"Geez," I mutter. I strip down and turn on the shower, sticking a hand behind the glass door to test the water. "Bossy."
I hear Rose laughing while I'm washing my hair, which must mean Alice has arrived. Alice has been dating Rose's brother, Jasper, for a few years now and I know her fairly well. She lives on the other side of town and goes to school full-time, like me. We don't see each other often, which saddens me. I like her a lot.
"Wait until you see what I brought you, Birdie," she calls to me over the shower door. I turn the water off and grab my towel from the hook on the wall. "I'm not sure I want to know," I mutter, stepping out and drying off.
She pulls me into a tight hug, which, under normal circumstances, might freak me out a bit, being that I'm slightly wet and covered in only a towel, but Allie's like that with everyone. I hug her back just as tightly. I've missed her.
I follow her into my bedroom where, apparently, a bomb has exploded. My bed is covered in clothes and the floor around it is littered with shoes. Not just shoes...heels.
I grab the nearest recognizable article of clothing-my pajama pants-and pull them up under my towel. "I can't walk in heels, Allie. And it's just dinner. I hope those aren't for me," I say, nodding toward the pile of stilettos at the foot of my bed.
"Bella. Baby," she says, placatingly. She smiles at me like I'm a child. "You can. And you will." She disappears into the bathroom with Rose and I'm able to put my shirt on in peace.
It is with extreme caution that I join them in the bathroom. "No glitter," I say, sitting down on the little stool they've pulled up next to the counter for me. They're a force to be reckoned with, these two. Rose starts on my hair while Alice does my makeup, and they're completely entranced, not speaking at all except to hush me when I let an errant "ow!" slip through.
Sometime later, still having not said one word to each other, they stop simultaneously, slap hands in a high-five over my head, and stand back with their arms folded to give me a final once-over.
"Am I done?" I ask hesitantly.
Rose grins at me. "With that part," she says. "Want to see?"
I do, but I'm afraid. I don't wear very much makeup normally, and even just the smallest amount of eyeliner makes me feel like a wild raccoon when I look in the mirror.
Not surprisingly, they've outdone themselves. I grin at my reflection and see their smiles mirrored back. "You guys," I breathe. "You're amazing."
"You make it easy, Birdie," Rose says, and if I didn't know any better, I'd think she was right.
They've taken me from plain to beautiful; from naive to sexy. My skin is smooth and flawless; my eyes smoky and dark-lidded, and my lashes are long and lush. It's just right. I feel beautiful.
"Now the fun part," Alice says, pulling me into the bedroom. "Strip."
"I'm not taking my clothes off and standing around naked, Alice." I hold my hand out and wave my fingers impatiently. "Hand me what you want me to wear, and then I'll strip."
She manages to make sense of the mess on the bed and pulls out two pieces, a skirt and a shirt, before thrusting them at me. The shirt is small. The skirt is a napkin.
"These look like they could fit Ava," I moan, holding them out as if they are diseased.
"They probably could," Alice says, dismissively. "They'll make your legs look great, though. You have amazing legs."
"Make them look great for who?" I shout. "I'm going to dinner with you and Rose!"
"Birdie, please. Get a grip," Rose speaks up from the other side of the room. I spin around to tell her where she can shove her grip, but she's changed clothes and her absolute perfection leaves the words unused on my tongue. Tall and thin, the epitome of female sexuality, she is stunning. "You look amazing, Rosie," I say. "What on earth are you doing with my brother?"
She laughs out loud and comes closer, pushing my outstretched hands back toward me, the clothes I hold balling into a heap at my belly. "Get dressed," she says softly. "You deserve this."
.
.
My mom and dad are away on one of their weekend camping trips, and Emmett and I have the house to ourselves. I've spent all day in my room reading, hoping to finish the required reading list for my AP English class before school starts in the fall. Aside from a few quick trips to the bathroom and kitchen, I haven't left my room at all.
The sun has already gone down when I finally put my reading aside for the day. Like our entire second story, my room is practically a sauna during summer months. My comforter had been folded up and stored in the closet months ago, leaving my bed wrapped in only lightweight sheets. Even sheets were too much on these hot, Texas nights. I turn my fan on and angle it to blow directly on my face. I change into a cami and a pair of sleep shorts, and grab a book. It feels good to read something for pleasure after having read for school all day.
I have my feet up on the wall and my hair splayed out on my pillow when I first hear the soft tap-tap-tap at my door. I assume it's Emmett, coming to start shit with me, so I ignore it and hope he'll go away.
Tap-tap-tap.
"What," I whine. "What do you want?"
The door slowly creaks open and Edward pokes his head inside. The fan hits the sweat on the back of my neck, and my entire body lights up with goosebumps. "Hey," he whispers. "Can I come in?"
I'd never had a boy in my room before, but I nod dumbly, and he slides inside and closes the door softly behind him.
"Jesus, it's hot," he says quietly, fanning himself with his shirt. He stands awkwardly in the middle of my room and turns in a slow circle, taking everything in.
I haven't moved an inch. Completely frozen in disbelief, I'm unable to come to terms with the fact that he was in my room. Edward Cullen! In my room! Where I lived! He walks to my desk and runs his hand over the stuffed bird my dad gave me for my ninth birthday.
"What're you doing here?" I whisper frantically, suddenly finding my both my voice and my senses. "Where's Emmett?"
"He's with Jess," he says, pausing to look at me. "In his room."
"Ugh," I moan. "Gross."
He gives me a shrug and laughs. "You asked."
His eyes flicker from my face, to my chest, and back again. I'd walked around in my bathing suit in front of Edward all summer, but sitting here in my sleep tank and shorts, I felt completely exposed. I grip the sheet and pull it tightly to my chin.
"Where's Lauren?" I ask, not a little bitterly.
He nods toward the empty end of my bed, asking silent permission to sit down. I wave my hand out in some type of elaborate, grand gesture and immediately feel like an idiot.
"Don't know." He shrugs his shoulders as he sits, and then leans his back against my wall, kicking his legs out straight so that his crossed feet are hanging off the side of my bed.
"Well she's probably looking for you," I snap...and instantly regret it when I hear how immature and dumb I sound.
He ignores me and continues his perusal of my room from his spot on my bed. The way he's sitting puts his thigh only a few inches from my foot. I don't move a muscle; I'm barely breathing.
"You have stars on your ceiling." He smiles as he says it, and I can't help the blush that rises to my cheeks.
"Em helped me put them up. They're accurate depictions of the constellations," I say proudly. My brother and I spent hours mapping them out and sticking them up.
I fully expect him to make fun of me, but he doesn't say anything at all. He grins and grabs my foot, giving it a yank. I slide down the bed towards him; the sheet stays behind. He runs his hand from my ankle to my knee in smooth strokes and stares at me contemplatively.
"What do you think about when you sleep under these stars?" he whispers. His eyes flicker, heavy lidded, back and forth between my lips and my leg, where his hand has traveled past my knee and is now smoothing circles on my inner thy.
"Nothing," I lie.
And then he's kissing me. His chin is rough with stubble, and his breath smells like beer, but I don't care. He's warm, and his lips are firm, a direct contradiction to the hand he's rubbing softly up my thigh.
He pulls away first, his pupils large, and his eyelids nearly close with heaviness. He smiles lazily at me and squeezes my thigh once before moving his hand away. "I'd better go," he says. "Emmett's probably looking for me."
I don't move from my spot on the bed as I watch him stand up. He adjusts his pants, and I look away, blushing fiercely. He leans over me and runs his hand from the top of my head to the side of my neck, and then he kisses me so sweetly it hurts.
.
.
The three of us walk through the door of Hanasho's an hour later, Rose and Alice striding gracefully, me teetering behind them in the first pair of four inch heels I've ever worn.
I feel good, but also insecure in the knowledge that I'm showing more skin than I've likely ever shown before.
We're led to a small table in the back of the restaurant where the lighting is darker and the music is low. Our corner seat helps cast our evening in an intimate light, and I'm momentarily taken aback by how glad I am to be here, in this moment, with these girls.
Alice and I sit opposite Rose, who promptly orders a round of drinks and a plate of shrimp tempura for us.
I scan the menu as our drinks arrive. "What's good here?" I ask them both. "I've never eaten here before."
"You've never been here, Birdie?" Alice looks shocked. "It's the only decent restaurant in town! Where've you been eating all this time?"
I certainly don't bring my six-year-old to eat sushi, and I tell her so. "I don't know. Applebee's? It's Ava's favorite..." I trail off. Alice is looking at me with wide eyes. I know I sound like a reclusive bumpkin, but I've chosen this quiet homebody life, and I'm happy in it. I missed out on a lot of experiences when I was raising a baby and delaying college, and sometimes I forget that a social life is a common thing for most people.
"Ease up, Alice," Rose says, smiling at me. "Bella's been a little busy. Which is why it's so great that she's here tonight."
Alice raises her glass. "Cheers to that," she declares. "And to Rosie, the birthday girl, hope this year is your best one yet."
We tap our glasses softly with each other, and I bring mine to my mouth for a sip. The sweetness cuts the sharpness of the alcohol, but even still, I make a mental note to drink slowly. I'm not used to anything like this, and when paired with my heels, adding alcohol to this night could make it an embarrassing one.
Our appetizers arrive, and Alice and Rose were right; they're delicious. I give my menu another go, but drop it in defeat after a few minutes.
"Just order for me," I say dramatically. "Otherwise I'm getting a California roll."
"Oh dear Lord, Bella. No." Alice says, in horror. "You can't come here and order a California roll. That's disgraceful."
Rose and I giggle at the look on her face. "We'll get you something, Birdie. Trust us," Rose says, winking at me.
I lift my glass to my lips and smile at her around its edge. Over her shoulder, I watch as the restaurant hostess leads a tall, leggy blond in the direction of a table near our corner. Walking as though she's on a runway, the blond navigates her heels like a pro. Her expensive looking dress fits her like a glove. The hostess steps to the side and behind the blond, hand slung low on the back of her hip, is Edward Cullen.
Thanks for reading.