Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. I do, however, own idiotic friends and a stupid sense of humour.
Seven
After that first night at Rosie's, I found myself there most weeknights and almost every weekend. Right in the centre of town, their little flat seemed to be the hub for their group of friends, the middle ground where everyone seemed to gather. If we weren't there, we were on the beach or at the pub. After just a month in Clearwater, I'd found myself becoming quite fond of the beach lifestyle; every day becoming more and more content.
I never contemplated making such good friends when I left Forks. Having spent my whole life in a small town, going through school with the same people, I thought I'd never make friends like that again. I mean, there's nothing like the friendship that comes with knowing someone since you used to run naked in their sprinklers. But, the relationships you make as you get older become less about who you should be friends with - the popular kids, the neighbours, your cousins - and who you want to be friends with. It becomes about easy silences and comfort, about "oh my god, you like that too?", and knowing how the other is feeling with a simple look.
I didn't think being around a bunch of smelly, rowdy, foul-mouthed boys would be so much fun, but it is. I mean, yeah, at first it was a little weird having so many boys around. But after a while you realise that just because they're guys, doesn't mean they all want to get in your pants. In fact, it's nice to have the kind friendships where I don't have to worry about what I'm wearing, or if it's in fashion, if they're going to talk about me behind my back, or if my hair is done the right way. Fuck, I could shave my head and call myself Barry for all they care.
Well, there is one exception to the rule. Edward bloody Masen.
My relationship with him is different than it is with the other boys. There is absolutely nothing platonic about the way he and I are around each other. Every time I see him, whether it's at work, at Rosie's, or down the beach, it's the same. There's that static-filled hum around us. I've never experienced it before and, to be honest, it's kind of unsettling. The moment he comes running up the beach, water dripping from his shorts, a smile plastered on his face, my heart pounds against my chest, leaping into my throat like it's trying to claw its way out and run across the sand to him.
There's just this nagging voice in my head that keeps reminding me that I just left a boyfriend in Forks. It happily reminds me that I broke Jake's heart and left him to pick up the pieces while I made a new life for myself somewhere else; that my whole reason for breaking up with him was that I felt smothered, like I'd been painted into a life that wasn't what I wanted.
So the fact is, that until I can figure out exactly what I want in life, I'm not ready to start something new. I'm not going to give in to Edward's charms, even if I really, really want to.
With my knees tucked up in front of me and my feet resting on the edge of the chair, I watch him from across the backyard, trying to carry four beers and a glass of coke for me. As we have for the past few nights, we're all sitting in Rose and Jasper's backyard, fairy lights tangled between the branches of a tree overheard, offering just enough light to see each other, but not enough to dim the glow of the moon; full and bright overhead.
Edward hands me my drink first, a beer bottle tucked under his chin, three more in his other hand. He still manages a smile for me though, and I accept the drink with a smile of my own. For a surfer, he makes a pretty good barman. There's only a touch of rum in my drink, its more coke than anything, but he knows that's the way I like it.
"We're playing truth or dare," says Rose, stretched out on her stomach on a banana lounge like she's in the sun.
Edward groans. "I'm not playing."
"Why?" I argue. "Chicken?"
Riles clucks like a chicken at him, flapping his arms like wings. Riley - or Riles – is quite possibly the tallest guy I've ever seen. He must push almost seven foot, and towers over all the other boys – even Edward who himself is over six foot. He never goes anywhere without his skateboard, and can burp the entire alphabet. I know, I saw him do it and almost spewed.
Dropping into a deck chair beside Jacko, Edward levels me with a cocky grin. "You wish, Swan. I'm not playing because I know all you fuckers," he says pointing to everyone but me. "And you guys have no secrets I don't already know."
There's a murmur of assent from everyone. I grin at him over the rim of my glass, before taking a sip. "I do."
Sighing, he sits back into his chair, his beer cradled in his hands in front of him.
"Just choose dare then, dickhead," says Jacko, breaking the silence and throwing a gumnut at Edward's head.
"Shut up." Edward tosses one back at him, and a gumnut war between the boys ensues until Riles accidentally falls backwards over his chair, making the rest of us laugh. Sometimes they think they're too cool; all beach hair and buff bodies. But get them alone together for more than five minutes and there's fart jokes and wrestling just like any other guys.
"You going to play or not?" urges Jasper.
Edward shakes his head. "Nah."
We all boo at him, throwing gumnuts, twigs and thongs, whatever's closest.
During the game, Riley runs a lap of the yard with his pants down, singing Old MacDonald. Of course the boys make it harder by throwing empty beer bottles at him as he runs, which he dodges, laughing as they whizz past.
Jasper admits to fingering some girl called Kath behind the surf club. I don't even ask; I don't want to know who she is, or why Rose and the boys laugh at him so much.
I choose truth, and Rosie makes me explain my most awkward sexual experience, which involves the back of the 1986 Ford Meteor and a black eye. The boys think it's hilarious. Especially when I let it slip that the black eye was mine, not the boy's.
Rosie chickens out too and chooses truth. The boys all groan and take too long to think of a good question, so I jump in.
"Ummm, who was your first kiss?" It's a stupid question, but one I don't know the answer to.
She pauses, rolling her eyes. "Edward."
Of course I'm the only one who looks surprised. "What?"
Edward chuckles quietly. "We were fourteen."
"Was she your first kiss?"
He rocks back on his plastic lawn chair. "Pfft – course not."
"Slut," snaps Rose, kicking her foot at the leg of his chair.
"No, that's your brother."
We all laugh, even Jasper. At least he owns up to it.
"Who was your first kiss?" asks Edward, letting his chair fall forward again, the motion sending a thatch of hair flopping over the front of his head. My fingers itch to reach forward and push it back.
Instead, I sip my drink, keeping my hands busy. "His name was Peter. He kept his eyes open the whole time, and I think I accidentally bit him. It was…disconcerting to say the least."
"Well, Edward practically gagged me with his tongue, so no one's first kiss is perfect, right?" says Rose.
"Hey!" objects Edward, his eyes wide. "I did not. I'm a great kisser."
I can't hide my smile as he pretends to look shocked and pouty.
"Uh-huh. Sure."
"Hey, if you want a demonstration I'd be more than willing." He goes so far as to lean across the small circle we've made, making loud kissy noises at me.
"No!" I squeal, pushing him back with my bare foot against his chest.
Laughing, he retreats, sinking back into his chair, a grin still plastered to his face. He's not stupid; he knows just as much as I do, that in fact I would like to kiss him, but that I won't. We're like two magnets of the same polarity, always dancing around in circles; he pushes, I pull, and vice versa. It's tiring and confusing, and for some reason we both seem to be thriving on it.
"So were you each other's first time too?" I tease, gesturing between Rose and Edward. I'm not sure why I ask, or how I'd feel knowing that they'd slept together. On one hand, it's obvious there's nothing between them, but on the other – well – they would have had sex. Awkward teenage fumblings or not, it makes me just a tad jealous.
"God, no!"
"Fuck, no!"
They both make a disgusted face, and Rose pretends to vomit in her mouth.
After a while, the game becomes less truth or dare, and more truth or truth, since no one is willing to do any dares. I learn things about the boys I wish I didn't, and by the end I'm not sure if I can look at Jacko the same any more.
The game winds down, and it's after midnight before I make a move for home. Most of the guys have gone already, and Jasper is asleep on the banana lounge. Paul, Edward and I are left sitting in a loose circle, trying to ignore Jasper's window-rattling snore.
"I better go."
With my feet on the ground, I pull my arms up over my head, groaning into the long, languorous stretch.
"I'll walk you," says Edward, standing.
I pull up the zip on my jacket, flipping the hood over my head. "Don't be silly. I'll be fine."
"It's dark, and it's late. I'll walk you," answers Edward, tugging on the drawstrings of my hoodie.
Butterflies erupt deep in my stomach as I dig my hands into my jacket pockets, slipping my thongs back on. "'kay."
He smiles at me, sneaking a look at my legs, bare in my ever-present denim shorts.
"I'll come." Paul gets up out of his chair, tossing his empty beer bottle aside. "My place is on the way anyway."
Edward's hands find his hair as he looks back and forth between Paul and me for a moment. Obviously Paul doesn't realize he's a third wheel, even though Edward and I aren't…well, we aren't anything. Still, some one-on-one time with him would have been nice and Paul is completely oblivious to the fact.
I shrug, and resigned, Edward sighs. "Whatever."
The walk turns out not to be as awkward as I'd expected. The streets are quiet, as they always are at one in the morning, and the moon is so bright overhead that the streetlights seem dim in comparison. We stroll slowly down the middle of the street, the sound of our shoes scuffing the bitumen echoing around us.
We play 'Name That Song', failing miserably since Paul can't sing and is too drunk to remember half the words.
"You know, that song!"
"What song?" I laugh.
"That one," he urges, gesticulating wildly. Edward and I laugh.
"Hang on a sec, haven't we passed your house already?" asks Edward.
Paul stops short, looking around. "Fuck."
I half expect Edward to make some smart comment about us being alone, but he doesn't say a word and we continue on in silence. We're so close I can feel the heat radiating off his skin beside me, the warmth of his arm as it brushes against mine.
We're quiet all the way back to my place, but for some reason it's not awkward, just heavy.
As we near my house, my heart kicks into overdrive. I wonder if he's going to kiss me, and if he kisses me, if I'm going to kiss him back.
The main problem with my stubborn streak is that it only exists when Edward isn't around. I spend countless amounts of time telling myself not to pursue him, and not to let myself be pursued by him. I know that I should be keeping my distance, but when he's standing right in front of me, it's like it all just slips right out of my head and all I want to do is kiss him.
He taps the post beside the front gate. "This is your stop."
"Yep."
"You have a nice view," he says, gesturing to the beach across the road, the moon lighting the sea like a spotlight.
"You can't see the beach from your place?"
He shakes his head. "Nah, we're a few streets back."
"Oh. Well, thanks for walking me home."
The right side of his mouth lifts upwards first, the rest following slowly. "No worries."
"Uh-huh…night then."
I start towards the front gate but his hand reaches out, grasping the sleeve of my hoodie.
"Wait a sec."
Swallowing, I turn to face him, and he tugs on my sleeve gently, forcing me to step forward a little. He breathes a long, slow exhale as his other hand reaches up and pulls the hood off my head, letting it fall back.
"You're bit of a mystery, Bella Swan."
He doesn't come any closer, but I can feel his fingers, still wrapped around the material at my wrist, brushing against the back of my hand softly.
"Is that a bad thing?"
He shakes his head, and my stomach twists as he leans towards me slowly, so, so slowly. Even with my eyes closed I can feel him, the heat from his hand against mine, the smell of salt water and beer and fresh air. He's so close I can feel his hair tickle my forehead as he nods, and my whole body feels like it's shaking from the inside out.
"Nope," he says quietly. "I like mysteries."
"Yeah?"
"Uh-huh."
My tongue slips out to wet my bottom lip, and I can just feel the warmth of his breath on my lips, when a sudden gust of cool air makes my eyes pop open.
When I open my eyes, Edward is already stepping backwards, a sly grin on his face.
"Night, Bella."
His fingers let go of my sleeve and I'm left, wobbly-kneed and trembling on the side of the road.
Taking a deep, cleansing breath, I watch him disappear over the road and onto the beach where he begins the walk home.
That fucker.
Game. Fucking. On.