Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just play with them. This story is rated M, and is not suitable for younger readers. Story contains violence, coarse language and sexual "situations". Please do not read if any of these things offends you.
Note: [Beta'ed by: adt216 & vasweetpea07]
Chapter 16 – Help
Isabella Swan POV
This was not going to work.
I stared into my closet, trying to find a pair of pants that were loose enough to fit over my cast. I was in no mood for cutting a pair just because I had to fit that stupid cast under it, and I didn't want the cast to show either. Therefore, I was in dire need of a loose fitting pair of pants. But it seemed as though I was out of luck.
Why is it that the only pairs of pants I own are skinny jeans?
I wanted to hide the cast because I didn't want to look weaker than necessary. I had a feeling that stumbling down the hallway on crutches would be enough of an attention grabber, without having my bulky cast protruding from my leg adding to it.
I pulled out a pair of jeans that had always sat a little loose on me. I had to sit down on the bed in order to pull the jeans over the cast. The whole procedure was painful, and I gritted my teeth and took shallow breaths to endure it. I stood up, buttoned them, and studied myself in the full-length mirror hanging on the closet door.
This works, even though it looks ridiculous.
It looked like I was suffering from that elephant leg syndrome. But it was a small price to pay for hiding the monstrosity from view. I awkwardly stepped over to my dresser, pulled on a long sleeved top, and grabbed a flannel shirt from the closet.
I had already put all of my books and homework in my book-bag the night before and when I grabbed the bag from my desk, I almost toppled over. The heaviness of the bag alongside my disability was going to make for an awkward walk… stumble down the stairs. I threw the bag over my shoulder and grabbed my crutches before carefully making my way downstairs. Each step was more painful than the last.
Dad was sitting by the kitchen table reading the newspaper when I walked – stumbled –in. He looked up from the paper and gave me a meek smile.
"How are you feeling, sweetie? Ready to get back to school?" he asked.
"As ready as I'll ever be." I sighed.
I dropped my bag by the door and wobbled over to the fridge to grab some orange juice.
"And you are sure you don't want to take the wheelchair? It's gonna be a long day, and you don't need to make it harder than it has to be with those crutches," he said, turning in his seat to look at me. I sighed and nodded.
"Yes, I'm sure."
I had practiced getting around with the crutches all day on Sunday. The only problem I had was walking up and down the stairs. Otherwise, I was doing just fine. The mild pain killers that Dr. Cullen had prescribed to me turned out to be a lifesaver. Even if I wanted to save them up, I wouldn't be able to. The pain was sometimes too much to handle, and I had to take them to survive. Or so it felt, anyway.
I didn't have any time to conjure up a lunch to bring to school. That was just as well, anyway– one less thing to balance along with my crutches and book-bag.
Dad looked at me when I tried to bend over awkwardly to grab my bag from the floor. Just as I was about to grab it, he grabbed it instead.
"I'll carry it to the car," he offered.
Wow, Dad, what a gentleman you are.
I didn't argue even though I wanted to. I wanted to show him that I could handle this on my own. I had been taking care of myself for a long time now. He had never been there for me in the past. So, if he thought that carrying my bag to the car was going to change things, then he had another thing coming.
I was still angry at him for the unwelcome visitor he brought into our home the other day. To top that off, ever since I came home, he'd been trying to casually bring the topic of that visitor up again. He wanted her to come home. Permanently this time. But I was not about to agree to such a thing. The day she stepped through our front door again was the day that I ran away.
Or, rather, the day that I wobbled away. It would be hard to run with crutches…
I grabbed my jacket from the hanger, pulled it on, and proceeded to stumble out the front door. Dad followed suit and locked the door behind us. I almost fell on the last step down from the front stairs, but managed to catch myself before falling face down in the frosty mud.
"Bella… you sure you don't want to take the wheelchair?" Dad asked almost pleadingly.
I threw an irritated look over my shoulder, and he looked back at me with a pained expression.
"I told you I was fine," I hissed at him, irritated that he'd asked again.
"I know, I just want what's best for you, Bells, you know that. And Dr. Cullen said tha-"
"I don't care what Dr. Cullen said," I snapped, cutting him off. "I know what I can and cannot handle. I can handle the crutches. I cannot handle the wheelchair. So drop it! Okay?"
Dad sighed and nodded reluctantly before coming down the stairs and walking over to the cruiser. He opened the passenger door for me and I all but growled at the gesture.
Did he think that I couldn't do anything on my own anymore?
I knew he was just trying to help me out, but come on already! He hadn't been there for me for the past three months. He chose to believe Mom's lies. He even let Mom come home for Christ's sake! So why was he trying so hard to get in my good graces now? Did he honestly think it would work? He could try all he wanted, but he was not fooling me. He didn't care. He was just trying to resolve whatever was left of his conscience and reputation.
What would his colleagues at the station think if they found out what kind of father he really was?
A father who chose to believe the lies told by his wife when his daughter was "found" almost bleeding to death on the living room floor.
I still couldn't believe he actually believed the lies she told. How could he not see through them? Nothing about her lies made any sense. Not only did the details of the story sound absolutely ridiculous, but also the main point itself.
Why would I try to kill myself?
Three months ago, I was happy. I loved my family, and I had a wonderful best friend. Yeah, school might have sucked even then, but I had endured it. I was freaking happy. I had no reason to try to kill myself.
And now she was back to feeding him lies. This accident was the worst thing that could have happened considering the situation. If Mom came home, it would be so easy for her to sway Dad into believing her. Dad might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he knew I was not doing well right now. So, it would be easy for him to believe I actually tried to kill myself this time.
That I threw myself in front of Edward's car on purpose.
I slumped in the uncomfortable seat of the cruiser and groaned inwardly as we reached the school. Anxiety and nervousness were beginning to creep up in me, and I bit my lip hard to stop from screaming. What the hell was I doing back here? Why didn't I just stay home?
I was not strong. I could not do this. They would laugh. They would taunt me. They would punish me for putting their precious Edward through all this, leaving my life even more miserable by the end of the day than it was when I woke up this morning. I had never really cared about the taunting before, but somehow it was different now. Maybe it was because I was physically weaker now.
If driving my loud truck used to get me attention, then it was nothing compared to the reaction I got when the cruiser pulled up and drove to the end of the lot, close to the main entrance. I could feel everybody's eyes on us when we stopped. Dad smiled awkwardly at me and scratched his stubbly chin.
"So, I'll pick you up at three?" he asked tentatively. I nodded.
"That'll be fine…," I mumbled in response as I opened the door.
I had imagined this scenario ever since I had woken up from surgery last week. I imagined myself graciously climbing out of the car and walking over to the steps with my head held high. I was not going to let anyone intimidate me. Nobody scared me. I was Bella Swan and I could survive anything.
But reality rarely lived up to my fantasies… at least not the good ones.
Of course I didn't manage to climb out the car graciously. Instead I fell out of the car and almost landed on my face for the second time that morning. But a pair of strong arms caught me just before I hit the ground.
"Whoa, careful there," a loud, deep voice said. I looked up in surprise, and my eyes widened in shock when I was met by the terrifying sight of Emmett Cullen.
Emmett was looking down at me with a sheepish grin on his face as he helped me steady myself. I looked away quickly and felt my cheeks flush in a million shades of red.
"You okay, Bells?" Dad asked from the car.
"I'm fine," I said quietly, avoiding looking at Emmett at all cost.
Graciously and proudly holding my head high.
Yeah right. Why don't you live in the real world, Bella?
I grabbed my book-bag from the floor of the car and my crutches. I put the bag down between my feet as I steadied myself on my crutches. I shut the door, and Dad waved meekly at me before driving away. I tried to balance as I grabbed my bag and threw it over my shoulder. It felt much heavier than it had at home, and I almost toppled over by the unexpected weight.
Suddenly a hand flew out in front of my face and I flinched, which made me almost topple over again from the movement. I looked up, startled, to find Emmett looking at me still.
"Oh, sorry," he said, looking a little startled himself. "But I was just…. You want me to help you with that? It looks kind of heavy."
Okay, what was he trying to pull here? I get it that he tried to act like a good guy in front of my dad. Everybody was scared of my dad because of his profession. But he wasn't here now, so there was no reason for Emmett to be nice to me.
Especially considering who his brother was.
"Eh… what's that?" I asked bewildered.
Way to be eloquent, Bella. What happened to your dignity? Show him who's boss!
"Let me help you with your bag," he insisted again. He yanked the bag off my shoulder without bothering to wait for a response.
"What?" I asked again with a little more force behind the word now. I was not able to grasp the situation at all, and the way he just grabbed my bag irritated me.
Very nice, Emmett. Way to disrespect the crippled girl. The girl your own brother crippled, at that.
"Let me help you with your bag," he repeated yet again. He was smiling at me as he threw the bag over his own shoulder. "You need help up the stairs too?" he asked casually.
And that was what did me in. Who the hell did he think he was?
"What do you mean 'too'? I don't need your freaking help! I can carry my own bag and climb these stairs all by myself, thank you very much," I snapped. Much to my surprise he looked oddly hurt by my words, and the grin on his face faded quickly. When he was no longer grinning, he looked like a hurt and vulnerable teddy bear. It was an odd look on him considering his size and usual appearance.
"I was just trying to help…," he said quietly. "Show me the way to your locker. The least I can do is carry your bag..." He sounded so sad when he said it, and I didn't care if he was just yanking my chain. I just couldn't deny someone who looked and sounded as sad as he did– even if he was faking.
He took a step forward and smiled crookedly, but the smile did not reach his eyes. His eyes were still sad. What was with him? The Cullen family sure was a freakish bunch.
"Fine," I said with a sigh, and he looked like he relaxed when I agreed. I wondered if this was a part of whatever master plan he had conjured up with his brother. Why else would he be so nice to me?
The steps up to the school turned out to be a little harder to climb than those at home. Mostly because people kept pushing past me and knocking into me on purpose as I slowly made my way up. Emmett stepped up beside me after the third person knocked into me and saw to it that nobody else did. He was acting like my own personal bodyguard. When I looked up at him, I saw that he was glowering at all the people who even dared to come close to me.
Seriously, what was with him?
I ignored him as we reached the top of the stairs and the entrance. I figured he would follow me, anyway, so I didn't need to pay him any attention. What was the worst thing he could do? Run away with my bag? Yeah, knock yourself out.
I turned out to be right though. I quickly developed a rhythmic pace in which I wobbled my way forward and Emmett never detoured from my side. We reached my locker, and I turned the combination with one hand while I balanced on one crutch. I tried not to put any weight on my injured leg, but that turned out to be pretty hard since I was constantly on the verge on falling over. I had never had a sense of balance and coordination before, so it was nothing short of a miracle that I was even able to balance on the crutches to begin with.
Emmett put my bag in my locker when I opened it, and he smiled at me.
"There you go," he said smiling, though his smile still looked a little forced and did not reach his eyes.
"Thank you, you didn't need to do that," I mumbled.
"No… I know, but I wanted to… considering… well… yeah…," he said, scratching his neck and looking away awkwardly. I bit my lip and fiddled with the bag in my locker. "Anyway, so… I'll see you around I guess…." I nodded without looking up, and I saw him walking away from the corner of my eye.
I picked up my books from my bag and grabbed the homework assignment that was due first period. I tried to hold the papers under my arm, but they kept slipping from my grasp. I put them back in my bag, before resting my forehead against the top of my locker and closing my eyes. This was not going to work.
How the hell was I going to get to class with my books without dropping them or without falling over like the klutz that I was?
"Isabella?"
I squeezed my eyes shut even tighter and wished for a meteor or something to hit me on the head and remove me from existence. What was this? Make-fun-of-Bella-by-making-her-believe-we-give-a-damn-day? Why couldn't they just leave me alone?
"Isabella? You okay?"
I sighed as I lifted my head up and opened my eyes. Alice was looking at me with a concerned look, which looked oddly earnest. Just like Emmett.
Those friends of Edward's sure were great actors. They almost had me fooled.
"What do you want?" I asked, though I had a feeling I already knew the answer.
"We have the same class first period, remember? I could help carry your books for you if you'd like," she offered, holding out her tiny arms. I noted that she had pink nail polish which matched the pink sweater she was wearing perfectly, as did the ribbon she had in her short hair. I had to admit: on someone else it would have looked ridiculous, but on her it worked. This was just another reason for me to hate her. The girl could pull off a freaking ribbon.
I took a moment to consider my options. Either I try to carry the books myself and risk looking like a total idiot when I dropped them and tried to pick them back up. Or I could let her help me and take the risk of her making fun of me.
I bit my lip in contemplation, and she just kept looking at me with that concerned, yet curious, look in her eyes.
"May I?" she asked again, and I felt my resolve crumble.
Pride be damned.
The humiliation of dropping my books was far worse than the humiliation of her making fun of me or whatever it was what she had planned. What was the worst thing she could do, anyway? Run away with my books? Was she going to pull an Edward on my ass? Yeah, have fun with my homework. Enjoy the easy A.
"Fine," I agreed reluctantly and handed her the books.
She lit up like a child on Christmas morning, and I wondered if I had just stepped into a trap. I closed my locker and steadied myself on my crutches before slowly making my way down the hall with Alice at my side.
To say that people were looking at us would have been another understatement of the century. I don't know what made them stare more: the fact that Alice was walking next to me, that she was carrying my books willingly, or that she actually looked pleased doing all of it. Then, of course, there was me, stumbling toward class on crutches, and it was just the icing on the cake.
"So how are you doing?" Alice asked politely.
I glanced at her quickly before looking down at the floor again.
"Fine, I guess…," I mumbled.
"How's… you know… the leg? Is it hurting?" she asked. She sounded uncertain as if she didn't know whether or not she should be asking that. I wondered if she had asked out of politeness or if she was honestly curious. I decided there was no reason for me to lie. My leg was what it was, and there was no hurt in responding with the truth. There was no way my answer could be used against me, anyway. Right?
"It's fine… Dr. Cullen prescribed me something for when the pain becomes too much," I replied, my voice just above a whisper. Alice's concern was making me uncomfortable, and I didn't know what to make of it, especially since I didn't know if she was sincere.
"Oh, that's good," she said, her voice chipper.
We reached our classroom, and she followed me inside. She put the books down on my desk as I sat down on my seat. Then she surprised me by sitting down on the empty seat next to me. I gave her a weird look, but she just smiled at me.
"So… I'm here if you need anything," she said with a smile, looking oddly excited by the thought.
"Thanks, but I think I'll manage." I forced a smile at her, hoping it would make her leave me alone now that we were in class. But it only seemed to encourage her further.
"Like, I can be your official book carrier or something. It'll be fun!" she said, leaning towards me excitedly.
"I very much doubt that… but thanks," I said pointedly. Her smile faltered at my tone, but not by much.
"Anyway, we should tota–," she began, but was cut off when our teacher walked in. I could almost hear her groan in disappointment, but I was doing a happy dance on the inside. I was beyond thankful for the interruption. The teacher looked out over the class; when he noticed me, he gave me a smile and a nod. Fortunately for me, he kept his mouth shut and didn't acknowledge my presence more than that. I didn't need any more unnecessary attention. God knows that I was about to have a day filled with it anyway.
I opened up my notebook and began doodling in the margins, silently counting the minutes until I could go home. The whispering of despicable words behind me did not deter me from my doodling. Not even when Alice looked over her shoulder to glare at whoever was sitting behind us did I stop my doodling.
The whispering just gave me another reason to draw a knife through the broken heart…
I had managed to waste four pages on nothing when the bell rang, signaling the end of class.
While the other students quickly gathered their stuff and made their way out, I was still trying to get out of my seat. Ninety minutes of sitting down on one of these generic school chairs was not good for my leg. My entire body was stiff from sitting down so long and it screamed in protest when I stood up. I tried to ignore it the best I could as I gathered my things. As I did, I realized I was once again met with the same dilemma as before.
How the hell was I supposed to get my stuff back to my locker now?
"Official book carrier at your service!"
Of course, how could I forget? Alice was practically bouncing next to me, and she laughed lightly at my doubtful look. She grabbed my things without even the slightest hesitation and smiled brightly at me.
"You don't need to do that," I said, trying to keep some sort of dignity.
"I know," she replied with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
She walked towards the door, and I had no other choice but to follow.
"What's your next class?" she asked as we walked down the hall for the second time that morning. "It's gym, right?" I looked at her in surprise.
"How did you know that?" I asked.
"You are in the same gym class as Rose. She mentioned once that you were in it too, but apparently you haven't made it there in a while. Have you changed your schedule or something?" she asked casually.
"No, I haven't changed my schedule," I replied slowly as a million questions began swirling in my mind. Why was Rosalie paying any attention to whether I was in class or not? And why the hell were they even discussing me in the first place?
"Huh… you don't like gym or something?"
"Yeah, or something…."
We reached my locker, and she leaned casually against the locker next to mine. She took one of the crutches from me so I didn't need to bother with it when I tried to unlock my locker. When I opened the door, she put the books on the top shelf before leaning back again.
"So… wanna hang out?" she asked with a light shrug.
"Don't you have class?" I asked.
"Yeah, but so do you and I figured since you haven't attended class in months, then why would you start now?" She smiled. She was probably just joking and didn't mean anything by it, but somehow her words triggered something in me.
"Actually… I am going to class," I said and had to put a lot of effort to keep the venom from my voice as I steadied myself on my crutches. "But thank you for carrying my books. It was very… nice of you."
"It's the least I can do," she said with a smile. I cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Why is that?" I asked curiously.
"Why is what?" she asked, still smiling though looking confused.
"Why is it that it's the least you can do? You don't owe me anything. If anything I owe you, considering you saved me from choking two weeks ago," I reminded her. Her smile faltered a little.
"Because you're a good person, Isabella, and you don't deserve the things people say or do to you," she said quietly, sounding apologetic. I shook my head at her.
"You don't even know me, so don't even…," I said walking away.
"I didn't mean to offend you," she said after me, but made no attempt to follow me.
"You didn't. I need to care about what you have to say in order for you to offend me," I replied over my shoulder. She didn't say anything in response to that and that was just as well.
It took me quite some time to wobble my way to the gym, and the class had already started when I finally got there. That didn't matter considering that I wasn't going to join in, anyway.
Coach Hunter spotted me as I sat down on the bleachers and walked over to me.
"Miss Swan, I'm surprised to see you here," she said with her usual unemotional tone.
"Why, yes, I thought I'd make an appearance," I replied with a weak smile.
"Don't get smart with me, missy," she said, giving me an once-over. "Would I be wrong in the assumption that you won't be joining us today?" I knocked on my cast as a response. She looked down and sighed. "I want you to bring your gym clothes tomorrow and be prepared to join. I will not ask you to do anything beyond your ability, but for now I'm going to ask you to do laps on the tracks. I assume you can do that considering you have your crutches?" she said, raising an eyebrow at me as if she was challenging me or something. And by the way… was she kidding me? I was just hit by a freaking car and now she was asking me to do laps on my crutches? Was she for real? Was that even legal?
Coach Hunter had always intimidated me because she was a tall and strong woman who didn't take any crap from any of the students – or any of the other teachers for that matter. She even made a girl cry once just because she couldn't participate due to serious cramps.
"Dr. Cullen asked me to take it easy, so I don't thin–" I began, and she cut me off by making that zip-your-mouth-shut motion.
"I don't care if Dr. Frankenstein told you to take it easy. I need something to grade you on, Miss Swan. With your poor attendance this semester, it would be very easy for me to fail you. So, you either bring your gym clothes tomorrow and we'll figure something out, or don't bother coming at all. And don't bother coming to graduation either," she said with a stern voice.
She gave me a pointed look before walking away to lead the class again. I sighed, feeling both relieved and full of dread. So, I wasn't going to graduate… no big deal, right?
Yeah, you'll just be stuck with Mom and Dad for the rest of your life. Have fun with that.
I groaned, leaning back on the bleachers, and tried to stretch out my legs in front of me. I let my eyes sweep over the big space and found myself looking into the eyes of none other than Rosalie Hale.
She was standing on the opposite side of the room with one hand propped up on her hip and the second holding a badminton racquet. She was looking at me with a raised eyebrow, as if she was studying me.
Had I walked through some strange portal and entered the Twilight Zone without even noticing?
Since when did the most popular clique in school pay any attention to me?
First, Emmett helped me out and looked hurt when I tried to tell him off, then Alice with her 'Official Book Carrier' job, and now, Rosalie studying me like a weird piece of art… or a zoo animal. Maybe I was just seeing things. Maybe I had gotten some serious head injury that went unnoticed by Dr. Cullen. Or maybe I was correct in my assumption that it was all just a part of their master plan that would bring me down on the behalf of Edward Cullen.
They were screwing with me for hurting Edward.
Of course, that must be it. What else could it be?
They were trying to get to me because I had put him in this situation. I almost made him a killer, and they were looking out for their friend by making me paranoid.
Well, it was working.
I broke the gaze and looked down at my lap.
I wondered what people were saying. Did they say it was my fault? Did Edward tell his friends that it was my fault? What about his brother? If his brother thought that I had purposely thrown myself in front of the car, I doubt he would have been that nice to me this morning. He might have been acting, but I doubt he could have acted that well if he was under the impression that I was the cause of the accident. Everything always came back to Edward.
I bet he was riding around the school on his high horse, enjoying the concern being thrown his way. He was probably reaping the benefits of it too, I'm sure, and putting the blame on me every chance he got.
I felt my throat constrict, and I tried to take a couple of calming breaths.
I couldn't blame him for any of it.
He had every reason to hate me now. I couldn't even begin to understand what he was going through. In a way, it must have been harder to be the driver than to be the one hit. There were always two victims in an accident like ours: the driver and the person hit.
Therefore, I couldn't blame him if he wanted to spread false rumors about the accident and me now. What else could he do? It came as no surprise to me that his friends had his back.
I stretched my leg in front of me and winced a little when it didn't agree with the movement. I chastised myself for leaving the pills in my locker and not having enough foresight to figure I would need them.
It was too long of a walk to go to my locker and walk back here, so I figured I just had to endure the pain and wait until class was over. I had no intention of pissing Coach Hunter off more than I already had. I had a feeling she would jump at the chance to punish me for leaving in the middle of class. Punishing me would mean failing me. Failing me would be the equivalent of robbing me of my future– if I would even have one. It was a possibility after all, as long as I was too chicken to actually kill myself. If that cowardly demeanor remained, I had to get an education if I expected to have a chance to get away from Forks, and away from mu mother.
So, I endured the rest of the class, trying to distract myself by watching the class play badminton. I silently laughed at Tanya's and Lauren's pathetic attempts at looking sexy while throwing their racquets around.
The bell finally rang, and I wobbled my way back to the main building while the rest of the class scurried to the changing rooms.
When I entered the school again, I was bombarded with laughing and talking students. Everyone was hanging out with their cliques and their friends. I had never felt so alienated in my entire life. What I wouldn't give to not have to be all alone.
All I wanted was one friend.
Was that too much to ask for?
I was tired of being alone.
People kept pushing me around as I walked through the hallway, and I did my best to keep up my indifferent façade. I pretended like their pushes and glares didn't hurt me. They were not getting to me. I was untouchable.
I walked over to my locker to grab my wallet and my pills, before heading off to the cafeteria. The strain put on my body due to the crutches and the cast were beginning to take its toll on me. I would need food in my system if I was going to be able to handle the rest of the day without incident.
I went to stand in line to the cafeteria and a couple of girls standing in front of me looked back and giggled.
"What the hell is she wearing? Hello! The 60's called and they want their pants back!" one of the girls whispered before bursting into hysterics. I looked away from them and pretended like I hadn't heard. What would they suggest I wear, anyway? I couldn't fit any other pants over the cast without cutting them.
The line slowly moved forward, and when I came to the point where I could grab a tray, I realized that I was yet again met with another dilemma. How was I supposed to carry the tray with food?
Someone cleared his throat next to me, and I turned my head automatically towards the sound. I hoped the shock wasn't all that evident on my face when I met Emmett's friendly gaze.
"Hey, Isabella, how has your day been so far?" he asked with a friendly tone as he grabbed a tray of his own.
"Fine… thanks…," I mumbled, looking away. He was still just as intimidating to me as ever.
I moved forward and grabbed a bottle of orange juice and a sandwich. I looked on amazed as Emmett put item after item on his tray. Was all of that for him? No, it couldn't be. He was probably bringing food for his girlfriend, too.
I took another step forward in line and grabbed an apple. Emmett reached his big meaty hand in front of me and grabbed two bananas and an apple. He grinned at me when he saw me watching him.
Maybe he was bringing food for his entire table?
"I'm a big guy, I need a lot of food," he said with a grin. I was a little taken aback by his statement and looked at his now overflowing tray with wide eyes. There was no chance in hell that all that food was for him!
"All that is for you?" I blurted out without thinking, my expression clearly showing bewilderment. He didn't look offended by my question; he simply smiled and nodded proudly. I wanted to laugh at his expression– and I would have if he didn't scare the crap out of me. Besides, I still didn't know what his agenda was. So, the safest bet for me was not to show any emotion at all.
"So," he began, "do you want me to carry your tray for you?" he asked when we reached the end of the line to pay. I was once again met with an internal conflict. Would I accept his help or not?
I looked around the crowded lunchroom and came to the conclusion that if he wanted to make fun of me and make me regret the day I was born (like I didn't already), then this was the place to do it. It had everything: a great opportunity and a large audience. Was this what they had been waiting for? Was this a part of their master plan?
I looked up at him with uncertain eyes, and he was just grinning back at me with no sign of malice whatsoever in his big brownish-green eyes.
"Come on, we can sit over there," he said, grabbing my tray and nodding towards an empty table by the windows. He didn't stand there long enough to notice my confused expression. He just walked towards the table as I stood there watching his back like a moron.
I shook my head, in an attempt to pull myself together, before wobbling over to the table.
Emmett put our trays on the table before taking a seat. I awkwardly sat down on the chair across from him, not really knowing what else to do. I stared at him from across the table and watched him as he put everything on his tray in order. He reminded me of a little kid. He looked so innocent.
He looked up at me with that grin that seemed to be permanently attached to his features. I quickly looked down at my tray and fiddled with the plastic wrapper on my sandwich.
I was hungry, no doubt about it, but now I was too nervous to eat. I had a feeling that if I forced that sandwich down my throat, I would most likely end up repeating the incident from two weeks ago. I sure as hell wasn't going to start choking in the middle of a crowded cafeteria when people already were staring at me like I had grown a second head.
The unmistakable sound of someone skipping neared our table, and I was not surprised to see Alice putting her tray down and sitting on the seat next to me. Nothing seemed to surprise me anymore. I didn't even object. Instead I decided to just roll with it.
Did I mention that I had somehow entered the Twilight Zone? Yes, obviously.
"So how was gym?" Alice asked. I glanced up at her from the corner of my eye.
"It was… fine…," I replied hesitantly.
"Well, that's good. Coach Hunter can be such a bitch sometimes," she said with a carefree laugh. She took the lid off her plastic container of chicken salad and smiled at me when she noticed me looking. I quickly looked away again. "Oh, that reminds me!" she said suddenly with a cheerful voice.
She grabbed her purse and rummaged through the contents of it for a while before she found whatever it was she was looking for. She pulled out a couple of colored pens and smiled wickedly at me.
"May I sign your cast?" she asked eagerly. She was barely able to contain her excitement.
"Hey! That was my idea!" Emmett protested, and Alice rolled her eyes at him.
"I think there's enough room for the both of us," Alice replied before looking at me. "So, may I?"
I let my eyes wander between the two and decided that enough was enough. A girl can only take so much Twilight Zone weirdness.
"What do you want from me?" I asked. I tried to keep my voice quiet, calm, and collected, but I had a feeling I didn't succeed. In my ears I sounded almost hysterical. Alice's smile faltered, and she looked at Emmett uncertainly. His grin seemed to be slightly forced now.
"We're just being nice…. We thought we could make this easier for you…," Alice said regretfully.
"Well, don't," I snapped. "I'm not some kind of charity project. I'm not a joke. Are you here to make fun of me because of what I did to Edward? Is that it? Are you here to punish me or something?"
Alice's face fell, and she gaped at me in shock.
"Oh, God, no!" she protested loudly. "Wait, what do you mean what you did to Edward? From our understanding, it was he who ran you over and not the other way around. You have nothing to feel sorry for. You did nothing wrong!"
Okay, what the hell had he been telling people? To say I was confused was an understatement. I was a little irritated, too. Who did these people think they were, anyway?
"And as far as I'm concerned, my brother is the one who should be punished. Just saying…." Emmett remarked gravely, his tone was not even close to matching his carefree and happy grinning from before.
"So, may we sign your cast?" Alice asked tentatively, obviously not letting it go.
She looked so earnest, like she really didn't want to harm me. But I didn't know her. For all I knew, this was her deceiving face that was created for an unsuspecting victim to think she was your friend, while she, in reality, was actually sharpening her knife before stabbing you in the back.
"C'mon… please?" she pleaded, unleashing the full effect of her puppy-dog eyes and pout on me.
"Fine, whatever," I agreed in a mutter.
I pushed my chair back and lifted my cast to rest my foot on the edge of Alice's seat. She helped me roll up my pant leg and gripped the cap of her pen with her teeth to pull it off.
She smiled brightly at me before she started her drawing.
I let my eyes wander as I let her do her thing and bit my lip to keep from smiling when I saw Emmett's expression. He was practically bouncing in his seat, looking at Alice in an envious way while he waited impatiently for his turn. I didn't care if he was just acting; the sight was funny either way.
My eyes wandered from him and towards the other tables nearby.
It wasn't until then that I realized people were looking at us. Of course they were. Why was I surprised? They didn't even try to hide their staring. They stared, whispered, and looked just as confused as I was that Alice and Emmett were sitting, seemingly willingly, with me. And the most confusing thing of all: Alice was signing my cast with such enthusiasm.
Then my gaze locked with another pair of eyes.
A pair of emerald green ones.
Edward was openly glaring at me. There was no hint of kindness at all in those eyes. There was nothing but pure hatred and scorn in them. I wondered what made him angrier: that I put him in this situation, that I was still alive, or that his friends were sitting with me instead of him.
He was sitting with Jasper and Rosalie, but neither of them was looking at me. Rose was busy staring at Emmett in disbelief, and Jasper was just staring and picking at his food with a deep frown etched on his face.
"All done. You like it?" Alice sang, grabbing my attention.
I looked down at my leg and held back a smile. Somehow, I had imagined she was going to draw or write something mean. Maybe an ugly duckling or some other kind of bird, but it wasn't even close.
Alice had drawn a beautiful bouquet of yellow roses with the edges of their petals faded in pink. She hadn't drawn the stems of the flowers, but simply the flowers themselves. It was very pretty and very detailed.
"Very nice," I said, nodding and Alice's face brightened immensely at my comment.
"Is it my turn now?" Emmett asked, pushing his chair back and walking around the table without waiting for an answer. He grabbed a chair from a nearby table as he rounded the table. He didn't bother asking the students at that table if they were using it or not; he just pulled it up between Alice and me. He grabbed a brown pen and got to work. He was furrowing his brow in concentration as he got into it.
"Why are you… why are you doing this?" I blurted out in a small voice before I even had a chance to think it over. Emmett glanced up at me quickly before looking back down and continuing his drawing.
"Because you don't deserve any of it," Alice replied simply, like the answer was obvious.
"It's not like it hasn't been my life for my entire… well… life," I mumbled before I could stop myself. Emmett dropped the pen at my words and bent over to pick it up before it rolled out of reach. "Forget I said anything. It doesn't matter," I muttered. I felt my cheeks flush an embarrassing tone of red and looked away. Why did I have to say that? Now I had only succeeded in giving them more ammunition they could use in order to bring me down.
The warning bell rang, and Emmett sighed.
"Well, it's not my best work, but it will have to do for now," he said, grinning at me before standing up. I never got a chance to look at what he had drawn because Alice quickly rolled down my pant leg over the cast. She placed my foot down on the ground, and Emmett grabbed my tray again.
"Do you want to save your food? You haven't touched it," Emmett noted.
I looked at my tray and shrugged.
"Yeah, I guess," I replied, though I wasn't hungry anymore. I didn't care about getting energy in my body anymore. I was too occupied with trying to figure out the situation I evidently found myself in.
Maybe I was dreaming? Or maybe I was in a coma, living in some alternate universe or something.
Emmett went before us to throw his food away and then went over to the cafeteria lady to ask for a bag for my food. Alice handed me my crutches. I gave her a weak smile in response.
Maybe this was some kind of 'kill her with kindness' type of deal?
Alice kept herself by my side as we walked out, and Emmett soon caught up with us, holding the paper bag for me until we reached my locker. He put the bag in my locker as I picked out my books, then waved goodbye before disappearing down the hall.
I emptied my book-bag and put my biology books in. Alice gave me a curious look.
"This way you can resign from your position as official book carrier," I explained.
"I honestly don't mind. I like to do it," she argued.
I threw the bag over my shoulder, thankful that it wasn't that heavy anymore.
"Thank you, Alice, but I can handle it from now on, but thanks anyway…," I said.
"Oh, okay, well… see you later," she said. She was still smiling when she turned to walk away, but it looked a little forced and didn't reach her eyes. It was as if I had offended her or something.
I shook my head at my thoughts and grabbed my crutches.
Why would she be offended? That was just silly.
Besides, why should I care if I offended her? It's not like we were friends anyway, so her feelings meant nothing to me. I wobbled my way over to biology and when I got there, I realized that class had already started. Mr. Melina was sitting by his desk and looked up at me when I entered.
"Ah, Miss Swan, welcome back," he said smiling. "Everybody is working on their projects, so why don't you find your group and…" He trailed off and suddenly looked pained. He stood up and walked around his desk to stand beside me. "If you want to switch groups, it would be completely understandable," he added quietly.
Oh, so that's why he looked so uncomfortable.
"No, it's alright," I said quietly. "I don't mind."
"Well, alright then. Go find your group, and I'm sure they will fill you in on their progress," he said.
I looked around the classroom and found my group sitting in the back. Lauren was twirling a strand of her hair around her finger while looking at Edward longingly, but he seemed to be oblivious to the attention. He seemed to be oblivious to everyone, actually. He was looking intently at the notebook in front of him, frowning as if he was deep in concentration.
I wobbled my way over to them. Lauren noticed me before I reached their table, and she made a disgusted face when I pulled out a chair to sit down.
Edward looked up, and I could swear that he bared his teeth at me for a second before covering it up and looking back down. Though we only locked eyes for a fraction of a second, I still had chills running through my body by the hatred in his eyes. He loathed me. No question about it.
I still couldn't blame him. He had every reason to hate me.
"So… someone wanna fill me in?" I asked quietly as I picked up my notebook and a pen from my bag, ready to take notes on whatever they wanted me to do. The least I could do for Edward was help out with the project.
"If you bothered to come at all last week then you would know," Lauren sneered.
I looked up at her and cocked an eyebrow.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I replied sweetly. "I was stuck in the hospital getting surgery."
"I think you're exaggerating. I bet you were home eating Bon-Bons and watching soaps all day, just so people would feel sorry for you," she snorted. "We all know the accident was your fault. Besides, you don't look that hurt. What did they operate on? Your brain?" I stared at her in disbelief. Was she for real? I noticed how she glanced at Edward with a glint of hope in her eyes. I guess this whole show was supposed to be for his benefit. Lauren was trying to show that she had his back and hopefully it would lead her to get him on his.
But Edward didn't look as satisfied by this as I would have expected. Instead he glared at Lauren with almost as much hatred and scorn as when he had looked at me just moments before in the cafeteria.
"Shut the fuck up, Lauren," he snarled. "Don't talk about things you know nothing about."
Lauren flushed, looking down, and I dared a glance at Edward. He wasn't looking at me. He was staring intently at the notebook on the desk in front of him. He wasn't doodling, and his hand was still. His face was clouded with anger and an unfathomable emotion.
Maybe I should have taken Mr. Melina up on his offer to switch groups. I didn't want to, though. I didn't want to quit. I needed to stand up for myself. I needed to show some dignity with my head held high. I needed to show Edward that he didn't scare me. He could look at me with those hate-filled eyes all he wanted. I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
Even though I had been strong and brave enough to stand up for myself at the hospital, I had my doubts on whether I would be brave enough to do that again if the situation called for it.
It had been easy for me to be brave enough to tell him off when no one was there. Dr. Cullen being close by and my body being slightly high on the drugs in the IV made it very easy for me to say whatever came to mind. I didn't realize that until I had gotten home and no longer had that steady flow of drugs going into my body.
Drugs make you brave. Who would have thought?
There was a slight problem now: I wasn't on drugs this time. I wasn't brave now. Because of that, the hatred that was rolling off of Edward in waves was making me nervous and putting me on edge. I was thankful for Mike when he distracted me by finally deciding to fill me in on what they had worked on during the week I was gone.
They had decided to design a poster with a yin and yang kind of theme. The dark side would represent the one night stands, and the light side would represent love at first sight. We would write down the pros of each situation. For some reason, they had decided to cut the bad aspects out all together.
It sounded kind of silly to me, but it all made sense once Mike had told me that it was Lauren who was the brain behind the whole operation. I wasn't about to argue, though, and decided to just go with whatever they said. I honestly didn't care.
As the class went on, I realized that I wasn't the only one in the group not giving a crap. Edward was slouching in his seat, doodling nothings in his notebook, while Mike jotted down whatever idea Lauren had. I would not be surprised if the yin and yang poster idea would be scrapped by the end of the class.
Every once in a while, Edward would look up from his notebook and meet my gaze. His frown deepened every time he did.
"Okay, we're gonna go to the library and check up on the marriage stats. You guys can proofread this and add whatever you see fit," Mike told us as he pushed his chair back. Lauren glared at me as they walked past. I rolled my eyes and looked down at my notebook. I didn't reach for their notes, and this didn't go unnoticed by Edward.
"What? You're not gonna check up on their work?" he asked darkly. I looked up and met his gaze.
You don't scare me, Edward Cullen.
At least that was what I kept telling myself. His gaze alone could kill kittens.
"No, I trust that whatever crap they came up with is enough for us to pass this assignment," I replied quietly. He raised an eyebrow at me, and I just looked at him defiantly, silently hoping that my nervousness didn't shine through.
"You shouldn't trust people, especially people who aren't your friends," he said pointedly. I had a feeling he wasn't talking about Lauren and Mike anymore. I sighed and looked down at my notebook.
"Whatever you're doing, it isn't working," I mumbled quietly.
"And what exactly am I doing?" he prompted. I didn't know what I was supposed to say, so I didn't say anything. My silence apparently upset him because he snatched my notebook from me. I looked up at him and frowned in irritation.
"I have no homework written in there, so there's nothing for you to steal," I muttered. He looked a little confused for a moment before collecting himself and putting on his usual cold mask.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked, tilting his head and looking at me condescendingly.
"Oh God, how stupid are you? Do you steal other people's homework so often that you can't even keep them apart?" I blurted without thinking.
"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked. He looked honestly confused now, and he didn't seem to bother with his cold mask. "Have you hit your head or something?" As soon as the words left his mouth something flickered across his face. It was there and gone too quickly for me to read. But it was there. He snapped his mouth shut, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
There wasn't a chance in hell that I was letting that one pass, no matter how much the situation was probably hurting him. No matter how much I probably owed him.
Newsflash, Edward Cullen, but you're not the only one in pain.
"Why yes, Edward, I have," I replied calmly.
"So I've heard," he mumbled, looking down. We both turned back to our mindless doodling and ignored the hell out of each other. After a while, I was beginning to feel the familiar feeling of my leg falling asleep, and it was not a comfortable feeling when combined with the pain that followed.
I scrunched up my face in discomfort and tried to adjust my leg under the table, but that turned out to just hurt me further. This observation was evident when a burst of pain shot through my leg and almost made me topple over in pain. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to breathe through the pain as if I was in labor. After a few minutes, the pain subsided, and I damned myself for getting so distracted at lunch that I forgot to take the pain meds.
When I opened my eyes, I found Edward looking at me. Again.
"Take a picture. It'll last longer," I snapped. Why couldn't he just leave me alone?
He frowned, but he was no longer glaring. The hatred in his eyes was replaced with frustration.
"If you're trying to make me feel bad for you, then don't bother. I don't fucking care about you," he stated calmly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair. I stared at him incredulously.
"I'm not trying anything," I replied. "Oh, and don't worry, I know better than to think you would ever care about anyone other than yourself…." He huffed and I sighed. "But for what it's worth… I'm sorry."
I met his gaze and groaned inwardly. The hatred was back– and then some.
Why couldn't I just leave well enough alone and shut the hell up?
"What the hell are you apologizing for?" he hissed through clenched teeth. I flinched at his harsh tone.
"For the accident," I said slowly, suddenly feeling oddly self-conscious.
His eyes went wide, and his nostrils flared in anger.
"Fuck you, Goose," he snapped. He pushed his chair back so violently that it fell over. He stalked out of the room while silently muttering to himself. The whole class followed him with their eyes and turned to look at me when he was out of sight. The whispering began instantly.
I turned away from them and slumped in my seat.
Why did he get so angry with me for apologizing? Didn't he want me to? I caused the accident, so I apologized. What more did he want from me? Did he want me to pay for the car after all? Maybe he did, but didn't want his dad to know.
I gnawed on my lip, and my eyes landed on his notebook, which he had left behind.
I reached for it without a second thought to see what he had doodled.
And I felt my eyes well up in tears when they landed on the cluttered page.
"Oh my God…," I whispered to myself.
I followed the lines of his doodling with my finger and bit my lip even harder to keep my emotions in check. Who knew such an artist lived inside of cocky Edward Cullen? And such emotions.
I had not been wrong before.
Edward was hurting, alright.