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.
[Beta'ed by: adt216 & vasweetpea07]
Chapter 23 - Confused
Edward Cullen POV
The wind was slapping me in the face as I rode my bike home. I wasn't racing at all. I was actually taking my fucking time, but still the freezing air of a typical Forks morning was bitch-slapping me in the face. I figured I deserved it for being such an idiot. What the hell had I been thinking, going to the hospital to see her like that?
What fucking good could come of it?
Nothing, it turns out. Nothing.
I had no idea what I thought I would accomplish by going there, but rest assured that the breakdown had been furthest from my mind. I never thought that that would happen, especially not in front of her of all people.
She told me it was okay. It was okay that I changed. It was okay that I wasn't constant. I fucking changed, and that was fucking okay. Isn't that just peachy?
I didn't even realize what the hell was going on until she brought me back to reality by asking me what time it was. Then I realized it was four fucking a.m. and I was standing in the Goose's hospital room. I realized I had actually taken my bike and rode in the freezing cold just to see her.
How fucked up is that?
I quickly got my act together and shook that shit off of me. I took a mental step back and tried to distance myself from her, which proved to be impossible. She kept looking at me with a knowing spark in her eyes, as if she was onto something, but I don't think she was even aware that she was doing it.
She had me by the balls now; she could use my random breakdown as a weapon against me. I didn't think she even realized what a goldmine she had stumbled across. Then again, maybe it wasn't so much a weapon as much as it was an inconvenience for me.
If Swan decided to tell people about the breakdown, who the fuck would believe her? The people she could tell would ask themselves the same fucking question I was asking myself as I rode through the freezing cold.
Why the hell would Edward fucking Cullen visit Isabella 'The Goose' Swan in the hospital at four in the morning?
That spark in her eyes angered me to no fucking end. She couldn't look at me like that, as if she knew me. I called her insane, over and over again, just to make her understand that she had nothing on me. She was the crazy one. Not me.
Her scars told me so.
What the hell was the deal with them, anyway? She was oddly defensive about the whole thing, telling me they weren't a big deal even though it was obvious that they were. I had glanced over my shoulder and made a stupid Thanksgiving turkey-joke. The joke had almost stuck in my throat as soon as my eyes landed on her face.
There had been nothing but raw dread and fear in her face.
Dread and fear for whatever was related to those scars of hers. I couldn't help but wonder if there were more, or were her arms the only part of her body that was disfigured like that?
Yeah, asshole. Her leg. Remember?
Fuck you.
The leg was my creation; it had nothing to do with the scars on her arms.
She asked me to leave then. I probably should have, but of course I didn't. Being the idiot that I am, I had to stay put and insulted her some more. I kept pushing the issue though I knew I had no fucking business pushing it – she made that pretty clear - just so we could get caught by the night shift nurse. The nurse wasn't an issue though; she was easily dazzled by my charm and she promised to not report my visit as long as I left immediately.
I wasn't surprised that the nurse didn't give me shit for being there, but what did surprise me was that Swan had actually tried to come up with something to help me out. I obviously beat her to the punch and told the nurse that I was her damn boyfriend. Swan had proceeded to stare at me like I had just grown a second head. The shocked look in her eyes was accompanied by something similar to… disgust. She was disgusted by the mere mention of me being her boyfriend. Like I'm that repelling?
Fucking Penguin, you wouldn't even know what to do with me.
I shook the thought out of my head as I turned and made my way up the driveway to our house. I didn't know why I felt so offended by the thought anyway. What did it matter to me what she thought? She was not important. Besides, why would she want to get together with the guy that maimed her and crippled her for life?
I shook my head again and groaned inwardly at myself.
What the hell was I doing? Was I actually trying to rationalize with myself why Swan would be so disgusted by the thought of me being her boyfriend? Really? I was obviously more affected by the sleep deprivation than I thought. I was clearly losing my mind, and I had chosen the worst place ever to be at when it did.
Fucking Goose.
I made it up to the house, and I cursed under my breath when I saw that the lights in the living room and the kitchen were on. The gravel echoed like gunshots when I hit the brakes on my handlebars. I cursed again. It probably sounded louder in my ears because I wasn't in the mood for getting caught.
I climbed off my bike, leaned it against the side wall of the garage, and quietly let myself in. By going through the garage, I could easily make it to the stairs without having to pass the kitchen, where Mom and Dad probably were.
I didn't know why I was so afraid of getting caught. It's not like I would get in anymore trouble anyway. What were they going to do; take my car away? Well, too late, I already took care of that myself. Were they going to ground me? Yeah, at this point that didn't sound like such a punishment for me. Besides, this was my parents we were talking about – they didn't know the first thing about punishing their children for doing fucked up things. I got away with smelling like alcohol and weed. So why would they suddenly care if I was out a little late one night? This wouldn't be the first time I stumbled home at almost five in the morning, though it might have been the first time I was actually sober while doing it.
Despite all that, I was still channeling my inner Jasper, moving silently as a ninja towards the stairs. I was almost in the clear. I knew that all I had to do was get up the stairs and I would be fucking fine. I took a step up and then another… damnit.
I didn't even think about the creaking step until it was too late. It creaked, and I fruitlessly hoped that nobody would notice it. If anyone heard it, maybe they thought it was just the house settling or some shit?
Geez, Cullen, paranoid much? Get your fucking shit together already.
I closed my eyes and tried to breathe calmly through my nose. If what happened at the hospital was me breaking down, then I didn't want to know what the hell was going to happen when I entered my room. Something inside me was quivering. I tried to get a hold on it somehow, but the more I tried to pinpoint the feeling, the worse it got. This was more than me being afraid of getting caught, this was something else entirely. Something I didn't understand.
"Welcome home, son. Care to let us know where you spent the last few hours?"
Dad's voice rang out, and when I opened my eyes, I realized I was still frozen on the second to last step of the stairs. I groaned inwardly and turned my head slowly to my father.
He was leaning casually against the doorframe to the living room with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. I knew my father, and the casual demeanor was just a fucking act. He was angry; the flashing in his eyes and the restless twitching of the pinky, on the hand that held his cup, told me so.
"I was just getting some fresh air, what? I'm not allowed to go out anymore?" I asked, though it came out as a croaked whisper.
"Enjoying the scenery while you can, are you?" he said and took a sip of his coffee. "But I'm sure Chicago has its perks too."
My already frozen body went impossibly even more frozen at his words. Chicago. I had managed to block that shit out. I guess my parents did know how to punish their children; they just didn't bring out the ammo often enough for us to know. But Chicago, seriously? That's not even a punishment. That's a death sentence.
"I'm not moving to Chicago," I argued, with no emotion in my voice. I was just stating a fact.
"If you keep disregarding the rules in this house as well as keeping this act up, then a move to Chicago will become reality for you, whether you like it or not," he replied calmly. "You still have a chance to get your act together, and your first step could be by telling me exactly where you have been, and who you saw." He took another sip, but never let his gaze waver away from me. I took another deep breath and breathed out slowly through my nose. There was no chance in fucking hell that I was going to tell him the truth of where I had been. I couldn't even admit it to myself, let alone anyone else.
"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to take a fucking ride on my fucking bike to clear my fucking head. I didn't see anybody of importance, okay?" I almost wanted to applaud myself. My answer hadn't contained one single lie. Everything was true. Yes, I had seen Swan – but she was not a person of importance.
Yet, you got worked up when she claimed she wasn't important and that she was nothing but a waste of space…
Fuck you.
Dad took another sip and sighed deeply.
"If I got a nickel every time you said the f-word I would be a very wealthy man," he noted solemnly.
"You already are a very wealthy man," I snorted.
"Not compared to what I would be," he replied with a sigh. "Go up and wash your mouth out with soap and get some rest. We're supposed to be at the station at nine. You better be on your best behavior, okay?"
I scoffed.
"What's the big fucking deal if he slams a restraining order against me?" I asked, even though something in my gut told me it would be a fucking big deal, but for reasons I rather not admit even to myself.
"You will have to change schools. You will not be able to get around freely. If Isabella turns up somewhere you are, you will immediately have to leave, even if you were there first… Doesn't sound so nice, now does it?" he replied. "You won't even have the right to take the same bus as she. Your freedom will be limited, as far as she's concerned."
"That shit doesn't matter since you're still probably gonna send my ass to Chicago anyway," I snapped. He pursed his lips and shook his head.
"It all depends on how well you behave today. One word out of your mouth and you can consider yourself gone. You will spend the remainder of the school year in Chicago," he replied sternly.
"Wow, Dad, way to love your fucking son," I replied sarcastically. "It's easier to send my ass away than to fucking deal with the problem, huh? By banishing me, you're banishing the problem. Way to go, what an excellent way of parenting."
"I am dealing with the problem, son," he replied with that calm tone that he knew drove me insane. "You are too busy focusing on yourself that you don't see the bigger pictu-"
"Fuck you," I snarled, effectively cutting him off. "Don't talk about my focus, since your own focus is nowhere near where it's supposed to be. You have spent so much fucking time caring about Swan it's like you think she's your daughter or some shit. Newsflash – she's not!" I was basically yelling now. I threw my arms out in a wild gesture at the last statement and Dad frowned at it.
"I advise you to not talk about things you know nothing about," he said with barely contained irritation in his voice.
"What? You're saying she is your daughter?" I replied sarcastically and he huffed.
"I know very well that she is not my daughter, thank you."
"Then why the hell have you spent more time caring for her than for your own fucking family? You don't put some random stranger before your own fucking flesh and blood!" I yelled and I could feel my pulse pound in my ears. I was working myself up to the point where my entire body was shaking in anger and pent-up frustration.
The sleep deprivation wasn't really helping with my mood right now. I knew I should just shut the fuck up and go to bed, but the words kept spewing out of me like there was no tomorrow. I couldn't stop even if I had wanted to.
Cue, nervous breakdown number two…
Fuck, I didn't even make it to my room before that happened.
"You care more about her than you do about me. You are willing to send me the fuck away because you think that will protect her from your monster of a son. You talk about seeing the bigger picture…fuck that… open your fucking eyes, Dad, your bigger picture is the wrong fucking picture!" My voice was beginning to sound odd in my own ears, like it wasn't even coming from me anymore, and the pounding was intensifying with each word that left my mouth.
Dad put his cup down on a nearby side table and walked over to me. He raised his hand. I thought for a split second that he was going to hit me, but he put it on my shoulder and looked me straight in the eyes.
"Breathe, Edward, breathe. Take a slow breath through your nose and breathe out through your mouth…slowly… Edward, are you listening to me? Do you hear me?"
I gave him a weird look, not understanding why the hell he was so concerned about my breathing all of a sudden, before I realized I was fucking hyperventilating.
And I couldn't fucking stop.
"Edward, listen to me, you're gonna pass out if you don't pull yourself together," he said with an alarmed tone. "Esme! Bring me a small paper bag!" he then called out.
"I don't… need… a… fucking… paper… bag…" I managed to croak out as I tried to get my breathing in order, which was easier said than done. My throat had been twisted into a knot and I couldn't get any air either in or out of my lungs. There was something heavy pressing down on my chest, and it felt like I was being crushed under something. My legs grew weak, and it was only a matter of seconds before I would collapse on the stairs.
Dad helped me down to a sitting position at the same time as Mom came rushing out from the kitchen and handed Dad the bag. I pushed Dad away when he tried to make me breathe through the bag. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, hiding my face in my hands, and finally getting my breathing under control.
Without a fucking paper bag, thank you very much.
"What's happening? Is he alright?" Mom asked with a voice laced with fear and concern.
My breathing was ragged, but under control. I wasn't hyperventilating anymore.
I was almost too tired to even breathe at all.
"Edward just experienced a mild panic attack," Dad stated without an ounce of hesitance. He was rubbing my back in a comforting way, but his touch was just pissing me off. I wasn't a fucking child to be cuddled after scratching a knee. Fuck this.
I pushed him away from me and stood up. My legs almost buckled underneath me and I grabbed the banister for support.
"Maybe you should stay home today. You don't need to come with us to the station," Mom suggested with a weak voice.
"Fine by me," I replied hoarsely, as I turned to walk up the stairs.
"No, you're coming with us," Dad said. "The Chief wants to see you, and by behaving, you might convince him not to get the restraining order against you."
I huffed as I kept moving up the stairs.
"You'll probably make me move anyway… I bet you'll even try to adopt Swan, since you love her so much… and why don't you give her my room while you're at it? She'll be like the daughter you never had… you can even change her name to Edwina," I muttered under my breath as I ascended the stairs. I didn't know if they heard me or not, because I didn't stay around long enough to find out, and it didn't matter anyway.
I walked up to my room on the third floor and collapsed on my bed. I was fucking exhausted and yet my mind kept me from resting by spinning in my head like there was no tomorrow.
I just had a fucking panic attack in front of my parents, just an hour after I had a semi-breakdown in front of Swan. What the hell is happening to me?
I didn't even know why I had reacted like I did. Why did I spew all that crap about flesh and blood and me being more important than Swan? Of course I meant more to my parents than a random stranger - or Swan in this case. That was a fact that was so obvious that it didn't need to be stated out loud. It was just there. A fact. They were my parents after all. But still those stupid words came out, making me sound like a fucking pansy in the process.
Emotional breakdown? Check.
I was not good with feelings. Feelings weren't my thing. The only feeling I could handle, or even wanted to handle for that matter, was lust. I didn't need more feelings than that. Oh yeah, the occasional angry outburst was okay, I guess, and as was the joyous feeling of getting to laugh at other people on occasion.
That was why this was all so fucking disturbing; my insides were a spinning turmoil of feelings, and I didn't understand half of them.
Love was not one of those feelings I was comfortable with. That was probably due to the fact that it was so fucking alien to me. I had never been in love so I didn't know first thing about it. Yeah, sure, I loved my family and my friends… but that kind of love was a given. Your family could screw up all they wanted, but you would still love them. It was constant. You couldn't do anything about it. But real love, romantic love… that was fucking different. Real love wasn't constant.
Constant.
Swan.
"It means that people change, all the time, for no good reason. They love you, then they stab you. They hate you, then they wanna help you... you're the same all the time …. It's nice having something constant to hold on to… It's the constant things in your life that keep you sane. You didn't let the accident change you and I think that's a good thing."
She was wrong. I was wrong. We were both fucking wrong.
Nobody was fucking constant. Nobody in the history of the world had been constant. Nobody woke up every morning being the same person they were when they fell asleep. Everything we experience changed us in minuscule bits, and then they came together to become something bigger. The small changes will creep up on you without you realizing it until it was too late to do anything about it.
One day, you will find yourself staring at a person you don't recognize in the mirror, and will ask yourself what the hell happened and how you came to be this way. You won't have any means to get back to where you were, because you were too fucking blind during the ride that you don't even know how you ended up there or why. You just were and you're weren't constant. There was no such thing as a constant human being. Everybody changed, whether they liked it or not.
And I was no different.
I liked to believe that feelings were the culprit for most of those changes. Just look at Emmett, he used to be so fucking badass until he fell in love with Rosalie, and he changed into a fucking pansy right in front of my damn eyes.
Feelings were not a good thing to have if you wanted to remain constant. No matter what those feelings were, you were due to undergo some changes. Having nervous breakdowns because you couldn't handle shit wasn't a good way of going about it either - if you wanted to remain constant. Spewing shit around your parents that made you sound like an abandoned little boy – nah, not a good idea either, if you wanted to remain constant.
Feelings were only good if you could control them, but most feelings were beyond being controlled. Every single one of them could spiral out of control without warning. Even the good ones - like lust. You could get totally blindsided by that shit and only think about whose pussy your dick was going to visit next, or whose tits your hands were going to fondle.
Lust could be a dangerous thing, but nowhere near as dangerous as love.
Love. Fuck that shit. Who needs it?
You need it, asshole.
Fuck you.
Besides, you want it, just look at Mom and Dad - you want the very same thing that they already have. You're just too big of a pussy to try to find it.
Fuck. You.
I must have dozed off at some point, because I was woken up by Mom shaking my shoulder. I was still laying sprawled in the same position that I had fallen in when I collapsed on the bed earlier. She smiled timidly at me as I tried to sober up from my nap.
"We have to go in twenty minutes, but you have time to freshen up a bit," she said quietly and smiled at me. "And don't you worry; it's going to be alright. As long as you keep yourself in check, there is no reason to believe that this won't end well today."
"And what if he slams that restraining order on my ass anyway? What's going to happen then?" I muttered as I sat up.
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, but you don't need to make matters worse by showing the Chief that colorful language of yours," she said with a pointed glance.
"Where would the world be without a little color?" I asked sweetly.
"Just go take a shower, sweetie, and meet us downstairs," she replied with a light chuckle and ruffled my hair before leaving the room.
I climbed out of bed with a groan and made my way to the bathroom. I didn't spend too much time in the shower; I just stayed there long enough to wake my sorry ass up. I changed my clothes before going downstairs.
The drive down to the police station was quiet and tense at best. I sat in the backseat of Dad's Mercedes, and with every turn he made, my stomach lurched even though he was a careful and slow driver. He was driving way below the speed limit, but I still had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I was gripping the seat, and I was sure that the indentions from my nails would be forever etched into the leather seat. Luckily for me, Dad would probably never notice it.
My fingertips were numb from gripping the seat so tightly when we got down to the station, and my legs felt like jelly. I didn't like being stuck in a car if I wasn't driving. I had no control if something was to happen, and I got claustrophobic. I couldn't escape and my life laid in the hands of whoever drove the car. Yeah, Dad was a terrific driver and all, but that didn't mean I liked sitting in a car with him while he drove.
I followed my parents into the station, and we were ushered by some intern to a small office. The door, which had Chief Swan's name on it, was ajar and we were let right in. The Chief was already sitting behind his desk, which was cluttered with piles of files. The bigger pile was labeled 'animals' and I wanted to snort at that. Being a small town cop couldn't be all that exciting, since they never got any real action around here; animal attacks didn't count.
Dad and the Chief exchanged pleasantries and talked about the latest animal attack, before getting down to business. As soon as we did, the Chief's eyes clouded over and he glared at me before looking over at my dad. This was not a joke to him, that much was clear. He was going to protect his daughter by any means necessary. I wondered if my dad would have acted the same way, if the roles had been reversed.
If I had been the one in the hospital, and if Swan had been the one driving…
No, not likely. If Swan had driven the car, she probably would have killed herself out of guilt soon thereafter. I don't think she was the type that would be able to live with something like that. She would find a reason to blame herself, even if the accident wasn't technically her fault.
"I've said this time and time again; I do not want your son anywhere near my daughter. I don't understand why that is so difficult for him to understand. In two weeks, he has managed to put my daughter in the hospital twice. He's dangerous and volatile, and I don't want him to have anything to do with her," the Chief stated calmly, but the anger behind his voice was evident.
"Yes, and I respect that. That's why I've asked Edward to keep his distance as to not make the situation worse," Dad replied. "But what happened yesterday is not my son's fault-"
"No? Then whose fault is it? Didn't your other son find Edward crouched beside my unconscious daughter in an empty hallway?" the Chief prompted.
Dad glanced at me and I cocked an eyebrow at him. Dad knew the truth; he knew I had nothing to do with it. Both Swan and I had told him that I was not to blame. This was the moment of truth, would Dad stand up for his son or would he choose someone else over his own flesh and blood, yet again?
He sighed deeply before looking back at the Chief.
"Edward was helping your daughter after she was attacked by another student. It was just an unfortunate coincidence that he was there when it happened. Anyone could have been there; it just happened to be Edward," Dad replied. I felt a small smile tug at the corner of my lips. Maybe my little speech from this morning did have some fucking impact on him after all. I hadn't been full of shit and maybe he had realized that too. I'm guessing, though, that the panic attack didn't really hurt matters either. Dad took a deep breath before continuing. "And with that said, I wish you would reconsider the restraining order."
Mom squeezed Dad's hand that rested on the armrest of his chair, and he shot her a reassuring look. She was nervous, no doubt, but what she was nervous about was beyond me. I was the one who was a step away from getting a bucket full of shit poured over me after all.
"Is there anything Edward could do to make you reconsider?" Mom asked in a soft and quiet voice. "You do realize what kind of impact such a thing would have on his life-"
"Yes, I'm very well aware of that," the Chief cut her off brusquely, "just as I'm aware of what impact he had on my daughter's life when he ran her over."
The silent tension in the room that followed could be cut with a knife. I don't think any of us had expected him to be so damn blunt about the fact that I crippled his daughter. I clenched my teeth and tried to count to ten in my head, but what good would it do? I knew I was going to lash out anyway. That shit wasn't right. He had no fucking right to speak of the accident like that, just because it was his daughter.
"I hit a patch of black ice, get the fuck over it," I snarled.
"Watch it, boy. You're walking a very fine line right now," he shot back.
"Edward, why don't you go wait by the car and we'll finish this up," Dad said to me with an eerily calm voice, and when I met his eyes I could almost swear I saw fire in them.
Oh boy, was he angry.
I pushed my chair back with a huff and left the office, walking out to the car. I had a feeling Dad wasn't all too pleased with my outburst and I couldn't care less about it.
I kicked a pebble in frustration and watched it bounce off a tire of a nearby police car.
Who the hell did he think he was, anyway?
Yeah, I crippled his daughter. Did he think I didn't know that already? Why did he have to rub it in my damn face like that? I hit black ice. End of story. It was not my fucking fault it happened. If Swan, herself, didn't blame me, why should he?
I paced back and forth beside Dad's shiny Mercedes for almost half an hour before my parents finally came out. Dad unlocked the car, and we all got in without a word. I put on my seatbelt and waited for Dad to turn on the ignition, but he just sat there with his hands on the keys, not moving.
"Congratulations, son, you're changing schools," he declared after a moment.
"I… what?" I asked confused. "So… what? You're gonna send me off to Chicago now? Just because I made one fucking mistake? How the fuck is that fair?"
"Shut your mouth," Dad snapped, finally letting his calm demeanor fall and his anger show as he turned in his seat to look at me. "Don't you dare speak to me like that again, especially not since I just saved your ass in there. You will not get a restraining order put against you. How about a little thanks, huh? He agreed not to take any legal actions against you yet, on the condition that you change schools. Which we agreed to since it's the least you can do for that family after everything you've put Isabella through." I gaped at him. I was totally fucking speechless. "Maybe if you're lucky you'll be able to go back to Forks High next fall, and graduate with your friends. Hopefully this storm will have blown over by then. You can choose to go to school in Port Angeles or to the small school in La Push for now."
"What? You're actually giving me a choice in this?" I asked incredulously.
"Your mother is the one who is giving you a choice. If it were up to me, then you would have been on the first plane to Chicago," he replied curtly before turning back towards the front and turning on the ignition. The car roared to life and we were soon on our way back to the house.
Port Angeles or La Push. So those were my choices? Maybe I should have moved to Chicago after all, since either choice was shit. If I chose Port Angeles, I would be forced to spend two hours every day driving back and forth. If I chose La Push, I would be stuck in a small-ass school with a bunch of inbred dogs. It was like being forced to choose between getting a leg cut off or an arm. Either way you were screwed. What was the better choice in this? Was there even one?
Fuck me if I didn't already know the answer. I don't even know why the hell I pretended that I didn't already know what choice I was going to make. Inbred dogs be damned; I was going to choose La Push. That way I wouldn't be stuck in a car for hours every day, and I would be able to take my bike if worse came to worst. La Push was only a few miles away, and maybe I could benefit from the exercise.
Yeah, like I cared about exercise. Who was I kidding here? I just didn't want to drive.
I went back to bed when we got home, and I didn't wake up until hours later when it was time for dinner. It turned out to be another quiet affair since Dad wasn't home from work yet. Mom didn't say much. she was too lost in her own thoughts and Emmett kept his mouth shut probably because he had nothing to say to either one of us. He didn't want to disturb Mom, since she was obviously distraught over the day's events, and he wasn't talking to me because he still thought I was a douche.
But he surprised me when he stopped me after dinner, when I was going for the stairs.
"I'm going over to Jasper's," he said. I cocked an eyebrow at him and he just stared back at me with empty eyes. I guess this was his fucked up way of asking if I wanted to come with. Maybe it also was his fucked up way of telling me that we were alright. For now. I went upstairs to grab my jacket, before following Emmett outside. He drove like a maniac to Jasper's house, and I didn't even bother to try to hide my annoyance over the fact. I clung to the handle above the door while I shot daggers at my brother. He didn't seem to notice, and if he did, he surely didn't care. This was probably his sick way of punishing me. I probably should have stayed home.
I wasn't surprised that Emmett disappeared into Rosalie's room when we got there, so I got to chill with Jasper alone for a while. I didn't mind though; after the wild car ride over, I was happy to get rid of Emmett for a while. Besides, Jasper was cool. He said he was Switzerland in this whole mess, so he wasn't going to give me shit for this.
We played GTA for a while, neither of us saying much about anything, but I got the feeling that he had something on his mind, because he kept glancing at me from the corner of his eye. But it wasn't so much the glancing as it was the feeling I got every time he did. It was something weird with the way he kept looking at me.
The dude had some serious issues.
"Just spit it out already," I sighed in frustration, without tearing my eyes off of the screen.
"I went with Alice and Emmett to the hospital today," he began and I immediately lost all focus on the game. I dropped the controller and turned to him.
"What the hell for?" I asked, feeling more than a little irritated. "What the hell happened to all that crap about you being Switzerland?"
"I was going to hang out with Alice this afternoon, but she wanted to drop by the hospital first, so I had no other choice but to join her and Emmet, so…," he explained with a half-shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. But it was; it was a big fucking deal.
"Well, isn't that just peachy," I scoffed.
"Don't be a douche, man. You should actually be glad that they did. I think Swan actually convinced them of a thing or two… she's like the Devil's Advocate or some shit," he chuckled as he shook his head to himself. "She got upset when Emmett refused to believe that you had nothing to do with what happened yesterday."
"She… she got upset?" I echoed skeptically. I had a hard time believing that and Jasper chuckled again at my expression.
"You betcha," he replied. "She actually told us that she thought it was okay that you kept treating her like a pile of crap, because that was the way you had chosen to deal with the situation or some shit. She said something about, if making fun of her and making her life miserable would make you feel better, we should let you do that. Whatever floats your boat."
I cocked an eyebrow as I looked at him skeptically. She had told me something similar, but it still surprised me that she had pulled that one out on them too.
"You serious?" I asked after a moment of silence and he nodded.
"Yeah, I didn't really believe it either. Alice thought she was being fucking masochistic. Which I'm inclined to agree with… have you seen her arms? She was trying to hide them by hugging them to herself, but I saw them… There's some serious scars going on there… Maybe she is masochistic… just in more fucked up ways than we would think."
"Maybe she is, maybe she isn't… but she didn't inflict those scars on herself," I said without thinking. Jasper gave me a weird look and I realized there was no way for me to explain myself out of this shit.
"And how the hell would you know?" he asked, as predicted.
I sighed deeply and glanced towards the basement door, making sure that Emmett and Rosalie weren't about to burst in here, before turning back to Jasper. I leaned forward a little bit and he mirrored my movement.
"I may or may not have stumbled across her file when I was at the hospital yesterday. I was alone in Dad's office and her file was on his desk. I figured I'd take a peek to see what crap was in there, and let me tell you, there was a lot of it. Seriously, her file was thick as shit," I explained in a hushed voice.
"Yeah? Did they mention her scars?" he asked, sounding reluctant to ask, but his curiosity got the best of him on this one.
"According to my dad's notes on the whole thing, he thinks that they were inflicted by someone else because of the way they are cut… freaky huh?" I explained.
"Wow, that's some fucked up shit. Those scars were like massive," he replied in awe as he leaned back on the couch.
"Tell me about it," I muttered.
We sat there in silence for a bit, as we both let that sink in a little. I still couldn't believe it. Who the hell would cut another person like that? It didn't make any fucking sense, and I felt a little relieved to actually get it out in the open and have someone to discuss that shit with. I couldn't go around carrying that knowledge with me without getting to talk about it with someone, and Jasper was good enough as any. Jasper was always objective, and he didn't get personal if the situation didn't specifically require him to. I assume that he had inherited that trait from his father, who was in the Navy.
Jasper made a chuckling noise and I looked up at him.
"Between you and me, bro," he said with a lazy smirk, "you are not even close to being that careless douche that you pretend to be, and Swan isn't that innocent, insecure Goose that we all thought she was… that girl can hold her own when she needs to."
"Don't I know it," I snorted quietly.
"For what it's worth, I never thought you did it," he said then. He didn't need to elaborate. I knew what he was referring to. I smiled crookedly and nodded.
"Yeah, I know," I replied.
Because I did know. Emmett and Jasper were my closest friends. They knew every little shit there was to know about me. The only reason Emmett was so quick to pass judgment on me was because he was pissed at me for not changing and becoming Swan's best friend after the accident. Jasper didn't expect that shit from me. He could still look at the whole situation objectively; therefore, he would never think I would do a shitty thing like pushing a crippled girl in a hallway. That shit was below me. Yeah, I called her names and whatnot, but crossing the line to hurt her physically… no, I would never.
I had hurt her physically enough.
"Did you hear that Coach Hunter got suspended?" he asked, taking me a little off guard by the sudden change of subject. I shook my head and he smiled. "Yeah, that bitch had it coming. Rose told me that Angela Weber had fallen down during gym today and sprained her ankle pretty badly; it swelled up to double its size and everything… and Coach just told her to 'shake it off' and keep running. Apparently she also tried to make Swan make laps on her crutches when she first came back. Rose figured enough was enough, so she reported her and got her crazy ass suspended."
"Rosalie did that?" I asked surprised and Jasper nodded.
"Yup," he said, "she may be a bitch, but I think there is a heart in there somewhere. Though I think she did it mostly for selfish reasons… she was tired of the shit Hunter made them do… talk about a sadistic bitch, Rose told me it wasn't the first time it has happened either. She always used to push the students beyond their limits and if they got hurt she just yelled at them even more. Fucking insane."
I just nodded in agreement, and surprised myself by feeling angry about the whole thing.
The Coach made Swan do laps when she had just come back from the hospital after having major fucking surgery on her crushed leg? How the hell did she even manage to keep her job long enough to make that happen? I wondered what Swan did; did she do the laps? I doubted it. How could she? She could barely walk on a flat surface at a snail's pace without wincing in pain every time she had to move her leg.
Yeah, I notice that shit, so sue me.
"So Swan… what else did she say when you guys saw her?" I asked casually.
"Not much. I don't think she likes Alice and Emmett very much though," he replied.
"Yeah? Why's that?"
"Because she thinks it's stupid and wrong for them to pay so much attention to her and not you and blah blah blah… I didn't really pay attention. I've heard Alice recite Swan's speech to me before. I don't think Swan wants them around, and I can't blame her… They both treat her like they've been friends forever, and I can see why that bugs her. But I guess they just can't take a hint," Jasper sighed.
I had heard that speech before too. On many occasions it felt like Swan really was the Devil's Advocate. One would think a girl like her would like getting some attention from the popular kids at school, but no. Instead she tried to shy away from it by basically telling them to fuck off. All this, while making a case for me – that I was their friend and that I was the one needing the attention and support.
How could someone be so fucking selfless?
Then again, maybe it wasn't selflessness, maybe it was just stupidity. She had no fucking sense of self preservation. Just look at how she ended up on an empty dark road in the middle of nowhere, running out in front of a car without a second thought, even though she knew the road was slippery with ice. She didn't want any friends, and she was totally closed off from the world, for reasons unknown to me. And if I had any sense of self preservation, I wouldn't get involved by trying to found out why the hell she was that way. It's not like it mattered to me.
I glanced at my clock, realizing it was already past eleven, and I figured it was time for me to head back home. Emmett had already let me know that he was going to spend the night with his girl. He had offered me to let me borrow his car, but I declined.
I wasn't in the mood for driving a car I wasn't used to driving, especially not when it was still icy out and it was dark as shit. Besides, it was only a few miles from Jasper's anyway. I had walked home from there before.
I said bye to Jasper, not even bothering with the two lovebirds upstairs, before making my way out into the cold, dark night.
Since Jasper lived at the opposite side of town from us, I needed to walk through town to get home. This also included a walk past the hospital. I tried not to glance at the building as I passed. It was just a fucking hospital after all. It wasn't relevant to me, but somehow I found myself slowing down to a complete stop when I passed it.
I sighed deeply and turned my head and looked up at the sad-looking building. Most lights were out, not very surprising since it was almost midnight, and Isabella was probably asleep.
Isabella? So now she's 'Isabella'?
Shut up.
She was probably asleep, and even if she wasn't asleep, it didn't matter to me. Why would I care whether or not she was asleep? That was none of my concern. It was her fucking problem if she couldn't sleep.
None of my concern. Yes. Then why the hell were my feet steering me towards the entrance without me telling them to? Fuck this shit.
I turned around before I even reached the automatic doors and stalked back down the parking lot towards the road. I looked down at the ground as I walked, and a small black object caught my eye. For some reason, I stopped and picked it up.
It was just a fucking pen. A worthless piece of shit pen.
I took off the top and tested the pen by writing on my hand. It worked. The black ink flowed easily over my skin. It would be the perfect pen to use to draw on Swan's cast…
… hold on a minute… wait, what?
I did not just suggest to myself that I was going to draw on Swan's cast. That was ridiculous. Why the hell would I do something like that? I put the top back on the pen and put it in my back pocket.
I snorted at myself and the ridiculous thought, and began walking back towards the road. But just as I reached the end of the parking lot, I found my feet frozen to the ground. It was as if they didn't want to leave. I threw a look over my shoulder, and I could see the moon being reflected in one of the windows on the third floor, and not just any window. I was pretty sure that particular window belonged to one Isabella Marie Swan.
Maybe it was a sign. Maybe I was supposed to go in there and see her one last fucking time, since we weren't going to go to school together anymore. If I were lucky, I would never have to see her again after this day. The least I could do was to say goodbye or something. Just to be polite...
The groan that escaped me echoed in the empty, silent, parking lot as I turned around and walked back towards the entrance. Maybe I should just have written her a note or some shit. Wasn't the breakdown from last time enough to want me to keep away from this place forever? Apparently not, it turns out.
I didn't even need to think as I took the stairs up to the third floor and walked through the hallway to her room. I was on fucking auto-pilot; I didn't even care to be sneaky and stealthy about it. I wanted to be caught, because that would mean I wouldn't be about to crash into Swan's room again and effectively lose all the respect I had for myself.
No such luck. The hallways were just as empty as last time, not even the nurse that caught us this morning was there. Fuck.
I reached Swan's door, and I stood outside it for a few moments just to collect myself – and give the nurses a chance to catch me – before I manned up and opened the door.
I stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind me before walking over to the window and grabbing a chair. I moved it closer to the bed. I looked down at Swan; her brown eyes were open and shining in the moonlight. Her skin was white as a ghost's in the dim light.
She didn't look surprised to see me, and she didn't look angry – though she didn't exactly look thrilled either. My hand was fucking shaking as I pulled out the pen from my back pocket and showed it to her.
"I brought a pen," I declared and a smile tugged at her lips for a second, before she gave in and let it break out. It was a timid smile, but it was good enough for me. At least she wasn't threatening to scream bloody murder.
But wasn't that what you wanted? You wanted to get caught… remember?
Shut up.
I sat down on the chair and removed the cap from the pen with my teeth.
"What are you doing?" she asked, even though she knew damn well what I was doing. I snorted as I lifted up the blanket that covered her cast.
"I figured I had a right to sign this stupid thing too," I muttered as I put my hand on the cast.
"Yeah? Why's that?" she asked. I had just been about to start drawing, but her question caught me off guard. It was a valid fucking question, and I had no fucking answer for it.
I removed my hand from the cast and looked at her instead.
"Because I marked you," I said, leaning back on my chair. I put the cap back on the pen and played with it in my hands.
"Does that mean I get to draw on your forehead?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
"My forehead?" I echoed in confusion, and she raised her scarred arm and poked my eyebrow. It took me a moment before I realized what she was referring to.
My scar.
"I marked you too," she concluded. I chuckled humorlessly and nodded.
"I guess you did. Does this mean we're even?" I joked, even though I knew we were far from it. She didn't answer me until I looked her in the eyes again. She was frowning a little and I had no idea why. Was she really surprised by my morbid jokes? She couldn't be and she shouldn't be.
"I never said we weren't," she said after a moment of silence. We stared at each other until she broke the gaze by looking down at the pen in my hands. "I have no friends, like you so nicely pointed out to me… and if Alice and Emmett got to draw on my cast, you might as well too… since you came all the way down here with a pen and everything," she sighed with a semi-sarcastic tone.
The way she spoke to me was refreshing. My friends frequently called me out on my bullshit and all the shit I've done wrong, but somehow it was different when Swan did it. When my friends did it, they did it because they were annoyed with how I acted and were tired that I never changed, but when Swan did it, she was just stating a fact. She wasn't complaining, because she obviously couldn't care less about my behavior. Probably because she had much darker demons than me to fight. I could only imagine what kind of demons lurked behind the secret that were her scars…
I scooted my chair closer to the bed and looked at her leg. Fortunately, I didn't need to turn on the lights in the room. The dim light, from the moon and the streetlights outside, was enough for me to see the cast clearly.
I tilted my head as I studied the creations that were already drawn on it. For some reason I felt oddly jealous of how much thought Alice had put into the details of the flowers and butterflies she had drawn. I didn't even need to ask who had drawn them because they had Alice's name written all over them – figuratively speaking, of course.
Then I saw a big brown mess that couldn't have been made by someone other than my brother. The bear with a t-shirt that said 'Brother Bear'. I looked up at Swan, but she wasn't looking at me; she was looking out the window.
I knew the significance behind that particular bear, and I wondered if she did. Probably not, because if Emmett had told her the significance behind that bear, she probably wouldn't have been so opposed to the idea of letting him in and becoming her friend. That bear wasn't a joke to him.
"…this bear will always look after you, and see to it that you will never hurt yourself again. Brother Bear is your bodyguard…"
I knew that the bear was special to my brother, and the fact that he had drawn that on her cast made me realize this shit ran even deeper than I thought. Emmett wasn't just fucking around with Swan, he was seriously looking out for her. Yeah, I knew he had been looking out for her after the accident because he was feeling guilty, but I never thought it ran this deep. Emmett was more attached to Swan now than he had admitted, and probably ever would admit.
It frustrated me to no end that he was so fucking attached to her. It felt like she had robbed me of my brother. She had fucking robbed me of my life.
Why am I sitting here again?
"Trying to figure out what kind of bird you're going to draw?" Swan teased softly, effectively bringing me from my musing. I looked up at her and met her gaze. The anger I felt towards her almost clouded my sight. Who the hell did she think she was?
"No, I'm just trying to figure out if I'm gonna draw the goose with or without a cast," I snapped. Her eyes widened a little, but otherwise there was no reaction from her. She didn't say anything in response; she just turned her gaze away.
I looked back down on the cast and sighed deeply. I had yet to draw something, and maybe that was just as well. There was no fucking reason for me to draw on her cast. I wasn't her Brother Bear. I put the cap back on the pen and put it in my pocket. I sensed, more than saw, how Swan followed my movements with her eyes.
"You didn't draw anything," she said quietly.
"Nothing gets by you," I snorted in response. I pushed my chair back a little, so I could lean back and prop my feet up on the bed. I made myself comfortable and crossed my arms over my chest. Swan was still looking at me and I had no other choice but to look back.
"I won't even ask what you're doing here tonight… because I get the feeling you don't even know that yourself," she said with no trace of humor in her voice.
"You know you can always tell me to fuck off," I replied coolly.
"Yeah, but would you do it if I did?" she asked, cocking her eyebrow just a little. "As I recall, you didn't leave last night when I asked you to." I guess she had me there. I chuckled darkly to myself as I slouched lower in the seat. I closed my eyes and yawned.
I don't know for how long I sat like that, but after a while, I heard her sigh. I opened one eye and peeked at her. She was looking at her hands. The moonlight was shining right on her arms, and the shadows, made by the unevenness on her skin, made her scars look even worse than last night.
"Do you want me to ask you to leave?" she asked quietly, without looking at me. I pondered that question for a moment and she slowly turned her gaze to look at me. I sighed finally, and shook my head.
"Nah, I'm fine here, thanks," I replied and closed my eyes again.
"You don't want to go home?" she questioned, though it sounded more like a statement to me. She was just making conversation with the semi-stranger that was chilling in her room in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. The question, or statement, was innocent enough. She probably didn't mean anything by it, but it still made me think…
Why wouldn't I want to go home? My bed was a hell of a lot more comfortable than this plastic piece of crap chair I was currently sitting in, and yet, I chose the plastic crap and the company of Swan over my bed. In what reality did that make sense?
"I didn't get a restraining order," I said instead of answering her question. I still had my eyes closed, so I couldn't see her reaction, if there even was one.
"That's… good?" she replied, sounding quite unsure.
"I guess it depends on your point of view," I replied. "Your dad agreed not to go through with it on the condition that I changed schools… so apparently I'm going to La Push. Isn't that just peachy?" I scoffed to myself at the thought.
I had yet to get comfortable with the idea of changing schools. Mom had told me before dinner that she had already made the calls and arrangements, and that I was going to start school in La Push after the Thanksgiving weekend. I was not going back to Forks High before then. I had already had my last day there without even knowing it.
"La Push? I have a friend there… I mean… I used to have… I… never mind," she mumbled uncomfortably. I opened an eye and peered at her.
"A friend, huh," I echoed, without tearing my one-eyed gaze off of her.
"He used to be…," she mumbled. The subject was clearly very uncomfortable for her, but I didn't really care about that as I chose to pry further. It would be interesting to know what kind of friends a person like Swan would have, seeing as mine wasn't good enough for her.
"What happened?" I asked. She looked up at me with a frown.
"Don't ask questions you don't want to hear the answers to," she replied. She was obviously shooting for me to get off the case, but her defensive nature just made me want to know more, even though I shouldn't have cared less about her friend… or ex-friend, as the case may be.
"How do you know I don't want to know? You think I would have asked if I didn't want to know?" I asked, almost confusing myself in the process by my oddly worded question.
"He was a friend of mine, until he… until he wasn't any more," she replied, her voice trailing off into nothing.
"Wow, way to clarify the situation. Now I'm all caught up," I muttered sarcastically, as I closed my eyes again.
"I don't need to clarify, because it's none of your business," she snapped.
"Fine, whatever. But would you mind telling me the guy's name, or is that confidential too?" I asked, without opening my eyes.
She was quiet for so long that I didn't think she was actually going to answer me. I had almost dozed off when she uttered two simple words.
"Jacob Black…"
It was nothing more than a whisper; but that whisper alone held so much pain and anguish that I had to open my eyes to see if her face mirrored those feelings.
It did.
She looked at me with eyes too old for her age and I frowned at the sight. It wasn't fucking possible to be in so much pain just because of a simple name. At least I now knew who to stay clear from when I got there. I didn't really feel like making friends with the Goose of La Push.
"He really fucked you up, didn't he?" I asked quietly, and there was no malice or bad intent behind my question. It wasn't even a question; I was stating a fucking fact. She turned her gaze away before answering.
"It doesn't matter now anyway… whatever happened happened. There isn't anything I can do about it now," she whispered with a light sigh. She met my gaze again and a sad smile graced her lips. "Are you gonna sleep here tonight?" she asked.
I crossed my legs by the ankle on her bed and nodded.
"Yeah, I'm too tired to move," I replied with yawn that proved my point.
"Good night, Edward," she whispered before closing her eyes and settling in to sleep.
"'Night, Swan," I replied, before letting my exhaustion get the best of me and bring me into the darkness and relief of unconsciousness.