"This is the worst thing ever."
"Shut up, Bella."
"No, Alice, I will not shut up. You will never understand."
Alice is busy digging through my kitchen for something to eat, but I can tell without her even looking at me that she's rolling her eyes.
"It's school, Bella, not a Nike sweatshop. Calm yourself."
"Yeah, but school," I sneer the word, "is full of bitches and skanks and douchebags."
"And Edward."
I huff.
"Well... yeah, Edward. But everyone else sucks ass."
"Then come back with me," she offers brightly around a mouthful of some delicious treat Esme dropped off as part of her weekly meal deliveries. She pretends that it's a spontaneous, I-made-too-much-for-the-boys-last-night-so-I-thought-you'd-like-it sort of thing, but in reality, she drops off what can only be described as a hamper of food - not only pasta sauces and casseroles, but baked goods as well - every single week.
I let her pretend, because I really enjoy eating her food.
"I don't understand why I can't be home schooled."
Alice stops dead, drops the food in her hand and slowly turns to me, her expression stony.
"Because dropping out of school due to fear of skanks would make you a total fucking pussy, and I'm not about to be friends with a total fucking pussy, Bella."
She holds my gaze, completely serious, until I burst out laughing. Checker, who has been dozing with his head on my lap, cocks his head up curiously at the loud noise, then jumps off the window seat we'd been sharing to dart over and try to get in on whatever Alice is enjoying.
"Don't give him anything," I instruct her.
"I know, I know. Sorry Checker, mom says chocolate isn't good for dogs," she says to him, mimicking the old Oreo ad perfectly as he gives her his most innocent, pleading expression. Really, he's getting far too big to be pulling that face, but damn if it doesn't work almost every time. She holds his gaze until he gives up and saunters from the room, the picture of dejection.
Alice walks across the room and flops down at the kitchen table, opening a magazine that is sitting in front of her so I return to my own reading. She sighs dramatically as she flips through the pages in an obvious attempt to get my attention. I ignore it, and she sighs again - much louder and longer this time.
"What's wrong, Alice?"
"Nothing."
Now it's my turn to sigh.
"Out with it."
"I wish you still lived at Jasper's place."
I roll my eyes.
"My most sincere apologies that me trying to get past severe pyschological trauma makes it difficult for you to get my boyfriend's brother imprisoned for statutory rape."
"Bella, when you put it like that you make me sound like an asshole. And also, I'm legal now, so your sole argument against me riding him like the prize stallion he clearly is is null and void."
I'm powerless against the disgusted grimace that covers my face.
"Gross, Alice. And he's back on campus til Thanksgiving, anyway."
"Great," she beams, thrilled at not missing out on months of Jasper being in town but unavaible to her. "That leaves much more time for planning."
"You have a disease."
"Shut up."
"I'm just glad you're applying your sociopathic tendencies to seducing Jasper and not murdering him in a horrendous, Dexter-like fashion."
"I hate you," she grumbles, turning her attention back to her magazine.
"You do not."
"I really, really do."
She says the words, but her mouth is fighting off a smile.
"I love you Alice, despite your conniving, horrible ways."
She huffs, slams her magazine shut and looks at me.
"I love you too. Also, quit whining about school. All highschools are full of bitches and skanks and douchebags, but we must persist, because those people are weeded out by the college application process or end up on Teen Mom, and once we're all in our dorms and away from the bullshit, that's when things get awesome.
"You're with Edward, who helps tone down the crazy, and you still get to see my gorgeous face whenever your heart desires. Basically, this is a win win situation, so shut the fuck up about it already."
"Yes, Alice," I sigh sarcastically, even though I'm feeling appropriately chastised and a little bit foolish for my childish behaviour.
"Me, on the other hand? I'm living in a permanent state of blue ovaries because you," she points acusingly at me, "chose to put your health and mental wellbeing over my getting laid. So thanks for that."
With that, I leave the room, throwing an "I hate you" over my shoulder at my best friend as I go.
"How are things with Edward?"
"Good."
I answer too quickly and he sees right through it.
"Ugh - I don't know, they're... ok, I guess?"
"Since the day of the testimonies, you mean."
"Well... yeah, that day sucked."
"Have you two talked about it?"
I glare at him.
"Of course we've talked about it."
Garrett holds his hands up, playfully defensive.
"Alright, alright - I was just checking, don't bite my head off."
"... Sorry."
I'm not really sure why I'm acting like such a bitch about all of this. Probably because, since the incident, Edward and I have barely touched, and I'm feeling like a detoxing meth head or something ridiculous like that. Even though I may not rely on his touch in the ways that I used to when we were first freed, I miss the effortless intimacy, something we seem to have lost even though we both swear that we're past what happened that day.
"So what's really the problem here, Bella?"
"Things haven't been... the same, since it happened. Like, we've talked about it til we're blue in the face -" and we had, "but we're not quite where we were. He's treating me like I'm made of glass and I'm losing my mind here."
"What do you mean by 'made of glass'?"
"Well," I huff, irritated at the very memory of it all, "he speaks to me in this even voice, like I"m going to have a nervous breakdown if my delicate sensibilities get overwhelmed. He does all this sh- stuff for me that he never used to, like picking things up and holding my elbow when we walk places. It's like he watched some shitty Austen adaptation and has taken to mimicking everything he's seen.
"But, when I want him to touch me, he's nowhere to be found. I know that school has been a challenge and we're readjusting to not being in our little bubble of crazy anymore, but I'm losing my damn mind here, Garrett. I don't know what to do."
"Have you ever considered just making the first move?"
"Of course I have!"
... Haven't I?
I shuffle through memories in an instant and realise that once I became aware of Edward's discomfort, I immediately shied away from him for fear of rejection. Which essentially only perpetuates the entire cycle of awkwardness and sexual tension.
Shit.
I look up from my hands to see Garrett looking evenly at me.
"Ok... maybe I haven't."
He smirks, just a little bit, and I scowl at him.
"It's not entirely surprising that he's withdrawn from you, putting his own needs and comfort aside and inadvertantly hurting your feelings, all in the name of protecting you, is it?"
"No."
That's Edward to a tee.
"You need to show him that despite what happened between the two of you, you still want, and even need, there to be a phyiscal element to your relationship. Whether it's sexual or purely just affectionate is up to you."
Definitely sexual, although I'd never be caught dead admitting that to Garrett. I chance another look at him, and I'm ninety nine percent sure he knows anyway.
As soon as my session is done, I climb into the driver's seat of my car, and dial Edward's number.
"Hello, gorgeous," he says into the phone, sounding somewhat distracted.
"Hey, what are you doing right now?"
"I'm just -" he grunts into the phone and I hear Emmett cry out in the background, "schooling my little brother at Xbox."
"Liar!" Emmett yells, then cries out again when Edward presumably schools him some more.
"How are you doing this? It's not fair!"
Edward laughs evilly down the line, and I laugh a little myself imagining the distress on Emmett's face.
"Sorry, what's up?"
I contemplate subtlty for about half a second then decide to take Garrett's advice and go balls to the wall.
"I was just wondering if you wanted to come over to my house and fool around a little bit."
Edward chokes on nothing.
"Um, what?"
I fight to remain casual, rather than collapsing under the weight of my nerves and chickening out.
"You heard me."
"Um..." he sounds like he's still not sure what I've offered is for real, "well, yeah, when do you want me to come over?"
"Meet you at my house in 20?"
"... Sure. Absolutely."
I hang up before I burst out laughing at how shocked he sounded by the entire conversation.
I make it home in ten minutes, do a quick sweep of the house to make sure Charlie isn't lurking somewhere unexpected and potentially mortifying, and find a note taped to the frigde informing me that he won't be back tonight.
Success.
I'm about to head upstairs to change when the doorbell rings. He's early, and I can't keep the smug smile off my face. With a quick glance under my singlet to make sure my bra is appropriately cute, I jog over to the front door and throw it open, a smile on my face.
He looks nervous.
"Uh, hey."
"Hey."
There's an extended moment of awkward silence, and then my laughter fills the air at how ridiculous this situation is. I grasp his hand and pull him inside, leading him to the couch because clearly, there is a conversation that needs to be had.
"You seem a bit freaked out, Edward."
"Well... I'm not bad freaked out, I just wasn't really expecting... that phone call."
"Have you not noticed that we've regressed to thirteen year olds in the physical sense?"
"Bella," he says seriously, "do you watch Maury Povich? Thirteen year olds are getting crazier and crazier by the day."
He's deflecting.
"That's very true," I agree with a condescending pat to his knee, "but not the main concern at the moment. I just... do you not want me like that anymore, or something?"
As soon as the words leave my mouth I realise how insipid and needy I sounded, but it's too late to recall them now so I just wait.
His eyes widen in what appears to be pure surprise at my concern.
"Wha - well, of course I fucking do!"
He seems to genuinely have no idea what has been happening the last few weeks.
"Have you noticed that we don't even hold hands since that day after court?"
His brows furrow as he lapses into deep thought, then a frown crosses his too-pretty-for-his-own-good face when it occurs to him that I'm right.
"Holy fuck."
"Yeah."
"Wow... is that - am I doing that?"
"Well... yeah, you kind of are."
"Oh. Sorry."
I sigh and rub my hands over my face.
"Why is this so awkward? Of everything you and I have ever been, we have never been awkward."
"Ok..." he muses, "so, maybe we just... I don't know, break the ice?"
"How?"
He angles his body so that he's beside me on the couch, but facing me then leans towards me quickly, smacking a loud kiss on my mouth. He quickly pulls back a bit, gauging my face for a reaction.
I laugh.
"Seriously?"
He rolls his eyes to cover his embarrassment, but then pulls me to him, kissing me again. Our lips mold together, a little mechanically as both of us are acutely aware of the awkwardness, but we soon settle back into the groove we know so well. He sucks gently on my bottom lip, illiciting a small moan from me, then I'm on my back on the couch with his body hovering over mine and it's like there was never a distance between us at all.
I feel a small moment of pride before the haze of desire begins to settle over my every thought and impulse.
I did it.
We did it.
We managed to pull ourselves out of our crazy and deal with things like rational adults. It may seem like nothing, but to me, it's a step in the direction I've craved from the moment we were freed.
Normalcy.