Disclaimer: Twilight and its characters are owned by S. Meyer. Follow the Sun and it's fuckery are mine.
Fifteen
The sweat drips down my back, running the length of my spine before it seeps into the material of my singlet top. I don't know why I thought running would be a good idea, walking would have sufficed. But the thought of spending another long day at home – alone – had me tying my shoes and out the door before I remembered that I don't know how to run.
Well, I know how to run, it's not like I've never been shown how to fling one foot in front of the other. I mean, if I was being chased by rabid drop bears I'd know how to get away, I just don't know how to run properly. But for some reason I run anyway, one foot in front of the other until my knees ache and my chest feels like it's going to burst. The air is thick and damp, the humidity high as last night's rain steams from the hot bitumen.
It's not like I go far – around the block, maybe – but it feels like a million fucking kilometers by the time I get home. Standing on the path out the front of the house, I rest my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath as it wheezes in and out of my lungs.
"Lookin' good."
A hand slaps me on my sweaty butt, and I lift my head to see Rose on her way out; her board tucked under her arm.
"Fu…fuck you," I pant.
"Were you running?"
Nodding, I straighten up, pushing the sweaty hair off my face. "Trying."
Snorting, Rose shifts her stuff higher onto her shoulder, her phone clutched in her left hand.
"What's with you and that thing lately?" I ask, gesturing to her phone. "It's like it's permanently glued to your hand."
"Whatever," she replies, making a dismissive face. "All that fresh air's made you crazy."
"Bullshit! You slept with it beside your pillow last night."
Her mouth drops open, and she barks out a loud laugh . "What were you doing in my bedroom last night, you fucking creep?"
"Borrowing your laptop cord!" I reply, shoving her lightly. Reaching for her phone, I tease her loudly, reaching around her as she plays keepings off with her stupid phone.
"Are you waiting for a boy to call? Is it Rory that works at Coles? It is isn't it?"
She's too quick for me though, and I only catch air as she snatches it out of my reach. "It is not Rory," she snaps, rolling her eyes.
"Ooh, touchy!"
Thrusting my hips at her, I make fake moaning noises, giggling as her face turns bright red.
"You're a mole," she says, shoving me lightly.
"I'll figure it out, you know!" I yell after her as she walks off, flipping her middle finger at me over her shoulder.
Another reason Rosie and I are so close, is her propensity to keep things close to her chest. She's never spoken about a guy, and apart from a random hook-up here and there, she's never brought anyone home. As much as I tease her, I know she'll tell me when she's ready.
Or, I can hunt down Jasper and make him tell me. Much better idea.
The minute I walk in the front door, he appears from the kitchen, still in his boardies, his hair a curly mess from the morning's surf.
"Can you look at something for me?" he asks, undoing the drawstrings on his shorts and pulling the material away from his hips.
I almost run into the wall in an attempt to get away from him. "What? No!"
"Please?" he begs, looking more than a little concerned. "I think it's just sand rash, but..." His tongue fiddles with the metal in his lips as his brow furrows. "I dunno."
Holding up my hands, I dodge his outstretched shorts and uncovered crotch, averting my eyes. "Fuck off with your nasty sexual diseases."
"It's just sand rash!" he yells, looking down his pants and then up at me. "I think." He gives his hips a shake for good measure, and I pretend I don't hear his balls slapping against his leg.
"Well stop fucking every tourist that bats her lashes at you and maybe you won't get the clap!"
His eyes widen. "You thinks it's Chlamydia?"
"I think I'm getting in the shower. You can deal with your nasty balls all on your own."
"You can't leave me!"
His phone rings before he can argue some more and I take the opportunity to escape into the bathroom.
"Edward! Bella says I have the clap. Huh? No way! When?"
Hearing Edward's name, I close the bathroom door in an effort to not think about him while I'm naked.
I don't think about him as the hot water streams over my skin, washing away the sweat. And I most definitely don't think about him when I soap up my skin, washing myself slowly, gently; making sure that all of my most sensitive places are really good and clean.
Nope.
No.
Not at all.
Luckily for me, it just so happens that Edward has been MIA for the past few days, leaving me to wallow in my own self-imposed solitude. I feel more than shitty for the way I treated him, in fact, I feel like a right asshole. It would serve me right if he never spoke to me again after I threw him out like he was one of Jasper's nasty hook-ups. After spilling my guts to Rosie, she assured me that he wasn't like that, and that throwing him out probably made him even more determined, but I'm not so sure.
Fucking hell, being an adult is so hard! Who decided that being an adult meant being responsible and making hard decisions? Probably the same person who decided the work week would be five days, and the weekend only two. Wanker. Just when I thought I'd got a hold on it, when I'd figured out the art of paying bills on time, managing my funds and making sure I didn't die of malnutrition – I have to deal with feelings I shouldn't be having for a certain copper-haired beach bum.
Fuck life in its ass.
After my shower I tidy the bathroom up a little, clean the shower, do a load of washing and clean the house from top to bottom; anything to keep nagging thoughts of Edward out of my head. But since our flat is so small, I'm done by early afternoon. And with Jasper off no doubt being quarantined for some hideous venereal disease, I'm home alone again.
Sitting on the couch I so dutifully vacuumed the crumbs out of, I contemplate sending Edward a text, something to apologize for my awful behavior.
Three times I type out a long, convoluted message, and three times I delete the whole thing.
In the end, I toss my phone across the room and bury myself in the couch, resigned to watching crap daytime TV and kid shows.
Coles - An Australian supermarket chain.
Mole - A derogatory term for a woman.
Tiff-dog is my beta and I love her. Thimbles is tea in the sun. Ink is my mayhem girl.
Loving all the reviews, SO HARD. Apologies for my lack of review replies. Just know I appreciate each and every one.