EPOV
I've come to love the way that a punching bag feels against my knuckles.
I know that makes me sound like a future serial killer, but something about the give of the smooth leather when I smash my hand against it, a perfect combination of resistance and submission, seems to calm me down when I'm feeling like there's nothing in the world that could possibly help.
Moments like now, for instance.
Demetri laughs from his position, holding the bag steady as I beat the shit out of it, and the sound breaks my concentration.
"What's so fucking funny?" I grunt, scowling up at him.
"Tone down the masculine theatrics, princess, because I'm sure as shit not buying it. When Marcus called me and told me to work you extra hard this week because you'd need it, he wasn't fucking joking, was he?"
I return my focus to the bag, throwing a punch, then another, then several more in quick succession until Demetri yanks it away from me.
"You're gonna break your fucking knuckles boy, so let's just cool it for a bit."
I know what he's about to suggest before he even says it.
"Treadmill time."
"No," I respond quickly, but I know this battle isn't even worth fighting.
"You do what I tell you, or you go home."
We've had this argument more times than I can count. I get pissed off, refuse to accept that he knows what he's doing, then get sent home for it. I feel like shit as the impotent rage courses through my system until I go back to the gym, accept what he has to say, and he helps me work it out.
"You are such an asshole," I grumble as I rip off my gloves and head for the treadmill.
"Save the words for Marcus, buddy," he says jovially as he sets the machine at a punishing pace.
By the time my workout is done, I'm aching, soaked in sweat, and completely wrecked. I don't know why I feel so much better, but I do, and I've learned not to question it. I always feel... placid after I work out. Kind of benign, as though I don't have the energy to fuck anything up by doing the stupid shit that always seems to happen when I get pissed off about something.
Stupid shit like what happened after we testified in court that day.
I push back those thoughts before they consume me and render my workout completely fucking redundant. Just thinking about what a monumental asshole I was to the girl I love sends a wave of rage thundering through my veins, but thankfully, because I'm so fucking tired from Demetri's thinly veiled sadism, it's somewhat muted.
I manage the drive home and drag myself up the stairs, feeling more tired than usual. I'm positive that Marcus has something to do with this.
What an asshole.
An asshole who knows what he's on about, but an asshole nonetheless.
Ever since that horrible day with Bella, I'd been craving the release of my workouts almost as much as I did when I first started them. Beating something else helped me to stop beating myself up as much, even though I still feel like an absolute dick about it. Bella swears up and down she forgives me, and we even got past the awkwardness that followed, and although things are returning to normal - well, our version of normal - if I let myself, I sink into this self-loathing hole wherein I'm not worthy of a second of her time because of how poorly I've treated her.
I'm a douchebag, but for some reason she loves me, and I love her more than I can process, so I need to stop being a whiny fucker and move on with my life.
Our lives.
Or so Marcus tells me.
Once I'm showered and feeling relatively normal again, my stomach kicks into gear, demanding nourishment to the point where I can't possibly ignore it. Groaning almost as loudly as it is, I haul ass down the stairs, thankfully running into my mother before I'm forced to prepare something substandard for myself.
"Mommy?" I call in my sweetest voice as I push open the kitchen door.
"You are far too old to be calling me that, sweet boy," she chides playfully, then sticks her head into the fridge because she knows what I'm going to ask before I even say it.
"Because you love me so much, would you -"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll fix you something."
I quickly lean over the island to kiss her cheek, and she rolls her eyes, although I can see the smile fighting its way to the surface.
A few minutes later, I'm presented with some reheated pasta from last night, which almost burns my mouth off on as I scarf it down. My mom sits herself down at the other end of the table, watching with disgust all over her face.
"What?" I garble out around a piece of sausage.
"I swear, you weren't raised in any house of mine," she says, shaking her head.
"Sorry mother, but this -" I gesture to my body with my fork, "is all your doing."
"You are a savage, beloved."
I smile wide, my mouth full of food, and she covers her eyes in horror.
"Oh, that is just awful, Edward. Truly, I don't know what that lovely Bella sees in you."
She's teasing, and I know that, but there's a part of me that takes those words to heart.
Unfortunately for Bella, I'm the best she's got.
Bella and I don't exactly see eye to eye about schooling.
I'd always just cruised through, making friends on the track team, dating the occasional girl, but never really involving myself in the ridiculous high school politics that so many people allow to consume their every waking thought.
Apparently, even though I had no interest in it at all, that didn't stop the people who were into it from being interested in me.
And, by association, they are now interested in Bella.
Not that I can blame them, because I'm pretty fucking interested in her myself.
I meet Bella at her car, a smile on my face. She's wearing this dark blue t-shirt, v-necked and perfectly fitted without being too tight, with a pair of black skinny jeans. She's all messy hair and nonchalance and she's so fucking gorgeous it makes my heart twist in this embarrassing, overwhelmingly girly way that I would never admit to anybody.
"Hello, Beautiful."
"Hey."
I grab her bag from her hand, a little shocked at how heavy it is, and carry it for her as we walk through the parking lot to our first shared class of the day. In the periphery of my vision, I see one of Tanya's minions pointing in our general direction, and the hiss of stupidly loud whispers ensues as we walk by.
Fucking ridiculous.
The girls at school are taking two different, but no less irritating, tacks to assure that she doesn't somehow ascend to social dominance over them. There's the Tanya's, who sneer from a distance and start what they think are hurtful rumors that are actually kind of hilarious. All of this is done in the hope that she is frightened so much that she never dares to challenge them for position at the top of the school's heirachy.
These girls get ignored, by both Bella and myself, because they're cowardly little bitches.
"Hi, Bella! Hi, Edward! Oh my gosh, Bella, where did you get that purse? It's divine!"
Angela gestures wildly at the large, studded black leather bag that is now slowly breaking my fingers with its sheer weight.
"Oh... thanks, Angela. It was a gift from my best friend."
"Oh... Alice, right? We should totally all hang out some time! I bet she's just as awesome as you are!"
I laugh under my breath as she darts off, and Bella elbows me in the ribs.
There are the Tanya's, and then there's the Angela's. Girls who have spent their lives on the second rung of the social ladder, and are pinning their dreams for ascendency on Bella. They attempt to buddy up with her in the hopes that when she leads a social revolution, they can ride her coat tails straight to the top.
These girls receive polite ambivalence, because they're so outwardly friendly and sweet to her that I can't really fault them, despite their completely transparent agendas.
The amusing thing about the whole situation is that Bella doesn't give a fuck about social politics, so both groups of girls are completely wasting their time and effort.
At least, I find it amusing.
Bella, on the other hand, finds it infuriating, and I often catch her muttering about homeschooling under her breath after these kinds of encounters. Which just makes me laugh harder, usually resulting in a swift slap to my arm, or, if she's feeling particularly cruel, a nipple cripple or an elbow to the ribs.
"I swear to god, Edward, if they don't start leaving me alone I'm going to be forced to drop out of school and become a stripper."
"I certainly wouldn't mind if you did," I snark at her.
"You are disgusting, and I hate you."
I jolt to a dramatic pause and clutch at my chest with my free hand, feigning agony. She smirks.
"Why do you hurt me with your lies?"
"I'm not lying. You suck donkey ass."
"And she does it again!" I cry out, pressing the back of my hand against my forehead in the most theatrical way I can.
"And you know what hurts the worst? That they're not even believable!"
"Shut up."
"Why must you hurt me so with your ridiculous fallacies, Bella? Why?"
Her eyes dart around the parking lot as I continue with my performance, noting that several people have turned to see what has me behaving like a total moron.
She looks back at me with a scowl.
"Oh, my god. I'm leaving now. But please, feel free to continue your one man show."
She storms off, leaving me laughing at how easily embarrassed she is.
Still, that'll teach her to claim that she hates me.
"Pissing Bella off again, brother?"
I turn to see Emmett strolling towards me, ever the over-confident freshman.
"You can't talk to me on school property, dude. You're bad for my image."
He rolls his eyes.
"Fuck you, I'm the coolest freshman this shithole has ever seen, and if you weren't here, cramping my style with your lameness, I'd be running the show already by now."
"Shut your mouth, fucker," I growl playfully with a jab at his elbow. "I will break you in half if you give me that attitude again."
He may have the freakish height, but I have the muscle and fight training.
"One day, I'm going to remind you of that statement, and then I'm gonna beat you into the ground. One day soon."
I just laugh heartily, dismissing his words.
"Mark my words, brother."
I just laugh harder, and he scowls.
"God, it's no wonder Bella hates you."
"It's alarmingly easy, isn't it?"
I swivel at the sound of her sweet voice, and she snatches her bag from my hand, smacks a loud kiss to my mouth, then runs off, giggling in that way that I should find annoying, but I absolutely fucking love.
"Later, Em. Wait!"
And I'm running after her. I sweep her up in my arms, relishing the way her giggles turn to squeals as I pull her off the ground. With my arms wrapped securely around her from behind, I spin us both, her legs flying out like a helicopter's propellers.
"Stop! Edward, STOP IT!"
I ignore her.
"Oh my god, I'm going to hurl!"
Those words have me drop her to the ground, only to spin her around and pick her up, lifting her once again, but so our chests are pressed together and our faces are awesomely close.
"Taking out the trash, are we, Edward?"
Moment ruined.
"Get bent, skank," Bella snaps, without removing her gaze from me, and I can't help but smile at her sass. As much as it drives me up the fucking wall, it's one of my favorite things about her.
Tanya huffs, sufficiently offended by what was, in my opinion, a fairly tame beat down, and walks off.
"Now, where were we?" she asks, her voice taking on the tone that means she's planning on kissing me soon, and my smile widens as I flex my arms around her tiny body, still nestled in my arms and a few inches off the ground.
"Right about -"
The sharp buzzing of the school bell sends us both careening back into reality.
"Motherfucker," Bella curses lowly, then pecks my lips quickly and wiggles her way out of my grip. I sigh loudly as I watch her walk into the building, hips swaying in that wonderful way that makes me want to drag her into the backseat of my car.
But alas... we have classes to attend.
Motherfucker, indeed.