Two-Bella
My arm burns as I lay under my covers. I have my legs pulled tightly to my torso, cocooning in a blanketed fetal position. Something major shifted tonight, and it scares me. The dark emptiness I saw in Edward is something I have never seen. I stay awake all night, waiting for him to climb through my window and into my bed with me. By 2 AM, he still has not arrived. I send a couple of text messages to him but they remain unanswered. A gnawing pit in my stomach grows with each passing second of quiet. I try anything I can to distract myself: music, my computer, reading. Even Emily Bronte cannot capture my thoughts tonight, though.
The sky has begun to lighten before the first glimmers of sleep take me. I'm ripped out of my sleep shortly after as my alarm screeches at me. My eyes feel like they've been filled with sand, and the pit in my stomach hangs low and heavy. I take my time as I get ready, brushing my teeth and my hair slowly and methodically, chewing each bite of food deliberately, until the clock marches toward first bell. I have to accept that Edward and his Volvo will not be picking me up to school today. I shuffle toward my truck, startled when my feet do not reach the pedals. After a moment, I remember that Carlisle was the one to drive me home. Would Edward be here this morning if I had allowed him to drive me home instead of Carlisle? At the time, it seemed to make more sense for his father to drive me home, but his absence has me second-guessing everything that has happened in the last twelve hours.
The Volvo is not parked at school either, although this does not surprise me. All signs point toward Edward taking a leave of absence. I stop looking for him every time someone passes by me. Only for the briefest of moments do I allow my hopes up when I catch the cold, sweet scent I associate with him and his family, but I realize instantly that it's Alice.
"Hey, Alice," I say listlessly.
"I'll try not to take offense," she says in response to my tone. I grimace an apology at her.
"Have you…heard from Edward?" I ask her. I don't know that I actually want an answer, especially not when her features flit between angry, sad, and conflicted all at once.
"He's…gone away for a bit," she eventually says. She's hiding something from me and I hone in on it at once.
"Define 'a bit,'" I say with narrowed eyes.
"He was gone when Carlisle returned home last night. I keep catching glimpses of him, but I cannot see anything solid. He's restless, changing his mind a hundred times a minute. It's honestly exhausting to have to see," Alice says. "Right now, it looks like he's headed to Denali, but…I keep seeing New York, Italy, New England somewhere…" She trails off as she tries to sort out the images in her head before shaking her head and rejoining the conversation.
"Is he…is he coming back?" I ask. My voice is forced-calm but I know that Alice can hear my thundering heart. Fear has overtaken my entire body.
"Not now," Alice says gently. She rests a cool hand on my forearm, where Carlisle sewed it up just hours ago. The coolness sends a wave of relief through the wound. "Come over after school," she tells me. "Please. Don't hide yourself away. Things will get very ugly if you do." She taps a finger to her temple. "Trust me on this."
I want to say no. I want to tell her that I can never return to their home, to his home. It's because of me that that home has been ripped apart. I single-handedly tore apart the family that Carlisle so carefully and deliberately created, and all because I couldn't resist the supernatural allure of a bronze-haired boy. It feels reductive to me to even think of him in those terms, but if I spend too much time focusing on his name, his face, his voice, I'll collapse. I wonder exactly what it is that Alice has seen happening to me. Reluctantly, I agree to go. Alice gives me the briefest of hugs because she disappears from my side as if she was never there.
The day is slow and painful. Most people don't even register that Edward isn't there, but it's all I can focus on. Biology is particularly difficult, and I cannot get out of that room fast enough. I catch my elbow on the doorframe in my haste and let out a string of colorful language.
"Whoa, Bella, where's the fire?" Mike asks, catching up with me. I don't answer immediately and he grabs my arm-directly on my stitches.
"Ow, Mike!" I shout. I drop my books, reaching over to cradle my injury. Mike jumps back, hands up.
"I'm sorry, what'd I do?" he asks.
"Nothing," I mutter. I drop down to grab my books, and bang my head into his on the way down. "Mike, stop. Trying. To help," I say through gritted teeth. I rise again, shoulder my backpack, and storm off before anything else can happen.
By the time I reach the Cullen home, I'm in a rare mood. I don't know if anyone else is even here as I stomp inside without saying a word and drop onto the stylish grey couch in their common area. My backpack falls to the ground with a loud bang. I give a small kick and a glare where it lays motionless. I cross my arms over my chest and drop my head back, closing my eyes. I try to center myself with some breathing techniques, but it does little to quell the annoyance and panic inside of me.
"Rough day, Bella?"
Carlisle's ever-soothing voice cuts through the silence. I hear faint traces of sympathy in his tone, but I choose to ignore it.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have just barged in here," I say, jumping up and turning around. I wobble as I pivot and I have to catch myself on the arm of the couch. "Alice asked me to come over and, well yeah, I had an awful day, so I'm on auto-pilot kind of, I guess," I finish awkwardly. I run a hand over my stitches absently as I speak. Carlisle puts a careful mark in the book he's carrying and snaps it shut.
"May I?" he asks, motioning at my arm. I nod, and he grabs his medical bag from the table by the front door before joining me in the living room. His sweater sleeves are cuffed to his elbows, and I catch the prismatic refraction off of his alabaster skin as the faint stream of sunlight comes through the windows for just a moment. I shrug my oversized raincoat off and yank my shirt sleeve up for him. He undresses it carefully and then purses his lips. "It's fairly irritated."
"Yeah, so am I," I mutter. Carlisle laughs lightly as he wipes around the stitched area with an alcohol swab.
"What happened?" he asks. "Leave this uncovered until you need to put your coat back on," he adds.
"Well, let's see, I slammed my elbow into the doorframe trying to get away from the biology room, and then Mike, who cannot take a hint, grabbed at me to try to slow me down. He pressed down directly on my stitches, which made me drop my books, and when I tried to pick them up, we smashed our heads together." I rub at the swollen knot on my hairline. Surely there must be a bruise there. "His head is hard."
"Now that you mention it, I do see an egg here," Carlisle says. He takes my face in his hands and tips my head down to get a better look. "Nothing too terrible, though. Take some ibuprofen; it should help with the headache and the swelling around your arm." He rifles around in his bag for a moment and then hands me two pills.
"Thanks," I say, taking them from him. "Sorry you have to play doctor to me so often." My face darkens as last night comes rushing back in, and I know that he's thinking about it again too. I remember breaking down on him, and a sudden wave of embarrassment sweeps over me.
"It's never a problem, Bella," Carlisle promises me. "Sounds like Alice is here. Go grab some water for those pills, and let me know if you need anything else."
I wander my way over to the kitchen to grab a glass. I've just taken a sip when Alice rushes in and throws her arms around me. Caught off guard, I choke on the water and it dribbles out of my mouth. Being a human is nothing if not humbling.
"That Mike Newton!" she cries. "He has all the energy of a golden retriever with none of the smarts! Honestly!"
"He probably saw his Edward-free chance and was trying to take it," I say dully. I rub at my head again. Alice makes a face at me. "Don't worry, Carlisle already made sure I was still in one piece," I assure her, holding up my freshly cleaned arm. She hums a satisfied sound. "What was he doing here, anyway? Shouldn't he be at the hospital?"
"Family meeting," Alice says, "it's why I wanted you to come over today. We want to talk to you, Bella."
A wave of hot anxiety washes over me. I feel my breath come in shorter gasps. I feel caged, suddenly, sure that there is no way out of this. Have I come to this house for the last time? Is this where I am told that the Volturi are going to have to clean up after this mess I created? And over what, a stupid paper cut and a plane ticket? Is this when Carlisle is going to tell me that I've destroyed his family, when Alice tells me she's seen the future and I'm no longer a part of it? Am I about to lose the people who matter the most to me?
"Bella? Bella!" Alice's voice comes back into focus. I'm crouching down in the kitchen with my arms wrapped tightly around my legs, ragged gasps of breath pulling in and out of me. I don't remember getting into this position-how long have I been like this? There are more faces in the kitchen now, and they all wear the same look of concern.
"Alice, maybe now is not the time to have this talk," Esme suggests.
"Please, don't turn on me," I beg in a whisper. "Don't leave me, too." Am I even speaking out loud? Am I speaking coherently? What I wouldn't give for Jasper to be here to manipulate this anxiety into something a little less crippling right now-but then, it's my fault he's not here. The gasps intensify and I try to make myself an even smaller ball than I've already done.
"Bella," Alice says, dropping down beside me. Her voice is firm, but not angry. "I need you to hear me when I say that we're not turning on you. Have I ever lied to you before?"
"Prom," I whisper. Alice huffs impatiently.
"That doesn't count, that was a necessary evil. Can you stand?"
I take hold of her offered arm and rise shakily. It does nothing to subside the waves of fear that keep rippling through me, and I know that I'm shaking like a leaf. This isn't me, and this reaction scares me. Only a few moments later, though, a wave of calm overtakes me. I snap my head up to find Jasper standing there. He has put as much distance between himself and me as is physically possible, but he's there nonetheless. Relief entirely unrelated to his mood manipulation fills my chest.
"Hi Jasper," I greet unsurely. He nods at me but says nothing. My guess is that he is holding his breath in.
"Are you still willing to stay and talk?" Alice asks. I look between her and the concerned faces of Carlisle, Esme, and Emmett, who I did not realize was here until now. He's uncharacteristically somber.
"Yeah," I say. "I'm sorry. I…it's been a weird time."
I'm led into their dining room. There is no trace of the party from last night, nor any remnants of mess from broken glass. I wonder vaguely how many times they've met at this table for family talks-and how many of them have been about me. A fire erupts in the fireplace near me and I jump.
"Sorry," Esme apologizes, "I thought you may feel more comfortable with some heat."
"How much do you save on heating?" I ask, and then blush at my stream of consciousness. I slap a hand over my eyes, embarrassed, as they laugh. "Ignore me, that was stupid. I assume I wasn't invited over to talk about your utility usage."
"It's about Edward," Alice says. Way to just rip the band-aide off, Alice. "And you. And us." It's silent, no one willing to speak up. Finally, desperately, I say,
"Can someone please give me more than that?"
"Bella, Edward…he's gone," Esme says. Her voice is gentle and she watches me as if I could shatter at any second-which, in honesty, is not out of the question. My breathing speeds up again and I can feel my heart stuttering like staccato notes in my chest.
"What does that mean?" I ask. "For good? Where did he go? Why didn't he say goodbye? Why did he leave?" The questions tumble out of me like rockslide, short, sharp, and unrelenting.
"Rose is with him," Emmett says, speaking for the first time. "At least for now. We wanted to make sure he was safe and Rose is…too angry to stay here right now." I look down at my hands in shame. She's angry with me, the human, for destroying her family. I'd be angry, too.
"I don't know if it's for good or not, Bella," Alice says, "but it's for a while. He's in Alaska now, but he's thinking about leaving again."
I fold my arms on the table and then drop my head down onto them. This cannot be happening. Distress is rising in me, acid in my throat. Jasper quells it before the wave can take me under, but it remains simmering beneath the surface.
"I'll leave," I say. "I'll go to Florida, or back to Arizona or something. This is my fault, your family shouldn't have to suffer because of me." I lift my head from my arms. I'm vaguely aware that there are tears in my eyes, but it doesn't matter. Nothing matters at this point. "My mom has been after me to go to Jacksonville, anyway."
"You leaving Forks is not an option, Bella," Carlisle says. "It's no more fair to break your family apart and leave Charlie alone again than it is that Edward and Rosalie should leave."
"Why aren't you angry with me?" I ask. Despite my question, I feel myself growing angry. "Why haven't you turned me over to the Volturi, or kicked me out of your lives? Why are you all sitting here acting like I belong among you when I don't?" I'm shouting now, and I've risen out of my seat. "Why don't you hate me? You should! Edward and Rosalie are gone, I cause Jasper pain just by sharing space, Alice feels like she needs to watch me at all times, and Carlisle is basically held hostage to my fate as the clumsiest danger magnet on this planet!"
"You do belong with us!" Alice cries out. Her voice is pained, and I half expect to see tears in her eyes-though I know it is impossible. "Bella, no matter what happens, I always see you with us in the end. Always."
"I should never have come here," I say. All of the anger has left me and now I am deflated, empty.
"To our home?" Alice asks. Her voice is tiny, wounded.
"Your home, Forks, this planet," I say with a humorless scoff. I walk out of the dining room and into the living room. I put my coat on carelessly, ignoring the pain when it tugs on my stitches. "I'm going home," I inform them, pausing by the front door. "Tell Edward and Rosalie that they can come home, if they want to. I'll leave. Just say the word, and I'll go."
I rush out before anyone can speak. A sob wrenches out of me as my driver's door slams shut. The radio Emmett installed booms to life and I turn it off with a shout.
When I get home, I hope against hope that Edward will be in my room, but I am greeted by silent nothingness. My gaze falls on the scrapbook from my mom, the one I've started to fill with pictures of the people in my life. I rifle recklessly through the pages, tearing a corner in my haste. When I get to the page where the pictures of Edward were taped, I'm greeted by empty photo tabs with only his name scrawled in my handwriting.
He was here and gone, and all that I had left now was a hole in my chest and an empty scrapbook.