VI. Between the Lines of Reality and Fiction
In the week that followed, I did not dust off the keys to my piano as I had intended. Instead, I continued to scribble away in my composer's notebook as I mentally tested out different keys and various broken chords without once playing any aloud. Alice occasionally chimed in, utilizing her visions to show me her personal renditions, but eventually, even she grew impatient with my idle pacing.
Edward.
I heaved an irate sigh, but stood from the sofa and flitted out of my room and down to the ground floor. Alice was already perched on the bench of my grand piano, awaiting my arrival.
Finally!
I shot her a scowl, but nonetheless, moved to sit at her side. The truth was, I had intentionally postponed this moment. I had already given Esme the wrong idea far too many times, and choosing to play the piano for the first time in months on the same day that Nadia had come to visit the house would be sending yet another wrong signal. So, I had allowed myself to be swept away into this year's Christmas festivities, pretending as though not much had changed. If it were not for Alice's pestering, I would have likely continued to bide my time.
This afternoon, everyone with the exception of Carlisle was home, enjoying the brief period between Christmas and the new year. Emmett was keeping an eye on the football match currently playing live on the flat screen, sound near muted, while also participating in some elaborate card game Jasper had created, playing cards positioned neatly across the surface of the coffee table. Rosalie was sitting on the sofa above them, methodically painting her perfectly oval-shaped nails with a fresh coat of red varnish, and Esme was lounging on the chaise beside her, idly flipping through one of the interior design magazines that had recently arrived in the mail for her.
Ready? Alice asked, impatient.
I lifted my hands and rested my fingertips across an array of keys, favoring a b-flat minor as my right hand worked first to gradually launch the beginnings of the melody, individual notes that rang strictly one after the other, frigid in their solitude.
Soon, my left hand followed with the accompaniment, the lower notes conceiving a shadowed depth, distinguishing the higher pitch of the song slowly unfolding.
Edward is playing again, Esme thought joyously, setting her magazine aside and admiring Alice and I from across the room. She rested her cheek along the top of the chaise cushion as she listened with a wistful expression. A new song. It's been so long.
Beside me, Alice swayed to the gentle rhythm and began to sing with angel-like precision, vocalizing one octave above the melody in perfect tune with me. To everyone else, it sounded as though we were succeeding to produce a perfectly structured piece with barely a second thought, but in reality, this was the culmination of our continuous labor for the better part of a week. And I was more than pleased to find that it was exceeding every one of my expectations.
The melody gleamed like starlight with every delicate note, flowing sinuously from one movement to the next, never entirely mournful, but never quite happy either. The song remained in the liminal space between reality and a dream-like substance, evoking a sense of painful longing that even I did not fully comprehend.
Nadia's crystal gaze reflected in my mind's eye, and I wondered what she would say if she were here. Perhaps, she would love it with all her abundant enthusiasm. Or perhaps, she would remain silent, only granting me that mysterious smile of hers which never failed to baffle me. Truly, she was a strange creature, and even a song as unsettling as this one could not fully encompass the crypticness of her nature.
The rest of my siblings listened on with quiet appreciation, growing contemplative underneath the tranquil cadence of every fractured chord; cascading notes that swelled increasingly with fresh waves of melancholic hope. And as the song drew nearer to its conclusion, I allowed both of my hands to drift further down the keys, fingers dancing lightly across the high notes, until they landed upon the low ones on the left side of the piano. The pacing slowed significantly while I lingered upon the somber chords and Alice lowered her voice accordingly, until the melody drifted away from our grasp, dispersing before I was fully ready to part with it.
The resulting silence was shattered by Esme.
"That was exquisite," she said, a proud smile directed my way. "Does it have a name?"
"Not yet," I said, though an idea was already beginning to form.
"Is there a story to it?" she asked, her thoughts soaring with pleasure on my behalf. It truly had been a long time since I'd last composed a song and I felt guilty that I had so carelessly neglected my music.
"It's a nocturne," I said simply, evading any mention of Nadia, though ultimately, it was her song. But while I did not wish to lie to Esme, I also did not want to continue to encourage the delusion that a human could hold a place in my heart. Nadia was a friend; nothing more. It was safer for all of us that way.
"Keep playing," Esme encouraged, eyes fluttering close and mind at peace.
I did as requested, fingers falling back to the piano keys and playing a different, happier melody to better match her mood. Unbiddenly, Liszt's Liebestraume came to life as I recalled how much Nadia had loved this particular song.
But there was no fooling Alice. She gazed up at me, keenly observing the small lines that had formed between my eyebrows and the slightest pinch of my mouth.
What's wrong?
I grimaced and imagined how I would aim to reply. Is it wrong for me to be friends with a human?
Alice tilted her head, seeing the possibility of the question in a vision and gazing up at me with uncomprehending eyes. But then, her thoughts flashed back to the first day we had attended Forks High, my face at the epicenter―eyes shadowed and lips downturned; a somber and withdrawn disposition. And then, beside it, she compared it to my expression from last week, after I had returned from dropping Nadia off at her house―my features were softer, something like contentment brightening my countenance.
She's good for you.
My frown deepened. But am I good for her?
Once more, Alice foresaw my doubt and became perplexed by it.
Unless you interfere, she'll be okay.
The visions that followed were murky at best, but in every single one of them, Nadia graduated from Forks High and moved on to college―some campuses I recognized, and others I didn't, but that wasn't the point. Nadia would grow up, she would move on, but I…I would remain eternally seventeen.
The emotions that warped through my chest were strange, a combination of grief that our friendship would be short-lived, and immense relief that Nadia would get to live the life that she deserved. All the same, I felt the sudden urge to get up and go see her, as though she would vanish in a moment's notice.
Go, Alice encouraged, showing me the results of my choice―Nadia and I sitting at her kitchen table, perusing documents and conversing intently. And while the image didn't make much sense, I was more than happy to fulfill it.
Alice smoothly replaced my hands with her own, continuing to play the piano without a single hitch in the melody.
"Thank you," I said aloud, ruffling her hair and racing away before she could retaliate.
I'll get you for that!
I flew out of the house and into the surrounding forests with a laugh.
It wasn't until I stood across the street from her house that I realized, in all my enthusiasm, I had forgotten that normal human boys did not walk seven miles to visit their friend's house. So, what I should have done was turned around, returned home, and driven the Volvo back to her house, but instead, I stepped out from amongst the wet gloom of the forest, involuntarily wandering closer to her home.
Something that Alice had not noted in her vision was that, for reasons entirely unknown to me, every window of Nadia's house had been thrown wide open. The smell of damp soil, pine needles, and resin alike wafted from each aperture, indicating that this had been done hours prior, thoroughly clearing out any lingering trace of human scent. Only Nadia's muted fragrance lingered amongst the earthy smells, as she appeared to be the only person home, breath steady and heartbeat even, one of the open kitchen windows affording me a perfect view. The sight of her sitting at the kitchen table was an exact replica of Alice's vision, barring my presence.
Nadia's eyes lifted and she caught sight of me.
I moved to casually cross the remainder of the street, chagrined, but knowing it was far too late for me to turn back. I would simply have to follow through and hope that I could come up with something halfway believable.
I had barely climbed the steps to her porch when Nadia pushed open the front door. "Edward! What are you doing here?"
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything of importance," I said by way of apology, hovering by the edge of the top step and belatedly recognizing how plainly rude it had been for me to show up unannounced.
"I was working on something, but I wouldn't mind a second pair of eyes," Nadia said kindly. But to my dismay, she finally took note of my lack of a vehicle, her eyes scouring the empty stretch of curb beyond her driveway. "Oh. Did one of your siblings drop you off?"
"Yes," I said, latching on to her offered excuse, and tacking on, "the wonders of sharing a car."
Nadia's mouth quirked into an amused smile, almost as though she had reason to doubt my rationale. "Well," she allowed, "at least you have a license."
Posing as a high school sophomore, I technically should have been too young to be granted a driving license. But I would rather start off the school year pretending to have already turned sixteen (with the possible implication that I might've had to repeat a year of schooling) than wait whatever arbitrary amount of time my forged birthdate dictated, to reclaim my driving privileges. Thus far, none had sought to question it. And even the school faculty assumed that I had merely started elementary school late rather than early, due to my falsified birthday taking an awkward place later in the summer, just before the start of the semester.
"Yes, at least there's that," I agreed wholeheartedly. "What is it that you were working on?"
"Right! Come on in," she said and turned around to lead me inside. "We have the house to ourselves, so this is the only time we can work on this."
My eyebrows shot up in bewilderment as I wondered what kind of project would require so much secrecy. "Does it have anything to do with why all the windows are opened?" I teased.
"No, silly. I was airing out the place," she huffed as she lead me into the kitchen. "Charlie drove Bella to the airport in Port Angeles this morning before his shift at the station, so I was doing some housekeeping."
"She left? Was she not supposed to stay until New Years?" I asked as I joined her at the kitchen table. The square, ash white surface was entirely covered with aged documents―birth certificates, marriage certificates, a divorce decree, and old pictures. I dropped into one of the matching chairs adjacent to Nadia as I tried to make sense of her goal in all this.
"Yes, but apparently Renée and her boyfriend Phil returned earlier than planned from their vacation, so Bella decided to spend New Years with them," she explained. "I can't say I'm surprised. She really doesn't like it here."
"But there were no complications regarding your lack of memories?"
"I have no idea," Nadia admitted. "I'm sure she noticed something was off, but she never said anything."
"Hm." I frowned in thought, knowing that even if I had been here, I would have been of no help. Whatever abnormality protected Nadia's and Bella's thoughts from me would always put me at a disadvantage. "What's all this for then?"
"I'm piecing together a timeline," Nadia said, shuffling through a few papers, until she pulled free a loose page covered in the familiar loops of her handwriting. "Here, take a look."
August 16, 1986 . . . . . . Charlie and Renée are married.
September 13, 1987 . . . Bella Swan is born.
December, 1987 . . . . . . Renée leaves Charlie.
March 21, 1988. . . . . . . Charlie and Renée are divorced.
October 1, 1988 . . . . . . Charlie and Cora are married.
March 13, 1989. . . . . . . Nadia Swan is born.
August 4, 2003. . . . . . . I wake up as Nadia Swan.
"I'm trying to figure out where I fit in, in all this."
I lifted my eyes and met Nadia's troubled gaze.
"How do you mean?" I asked. "Would Nadia Swan not have existed without you?"
To my surprise, Nadia firmly shook her head. "No, she wouldn't have."
I leaned back against the high backrest of the kitchen chair, examining her unwavering expression. In this moment, I did not need to read her mind to know that she didn't hold a shred of doubt. Unfortunately, I could not say the same for myself.
"Why do you believe that?" I asked her, attempting to understand the source of her illogic.
"Because," she said simply, "I am still me."
"Meaning?"
Nadia gestured towards herself. "Other than the change in eye color and being a bit younger, I appear exactly as I did before I woke up here. Same name and same face. I am me, so Nadia Swan could not exist without me."
I frowned thoughtfully, unable to fully come to terms with her reasoning. Though I had never met other-Nadia, I knew what I did about her because I had seen her through the thoughts of the Forks' townspeople.
"Then how do you explain the fact that Nadia Swan has a history here―parents, friends, teachers. An entire town did not simply create her from nothing."
Nadia shrugged, unphased by the legitimate hole in her logic. "If the crystal magic can change my eyes and bring me here, it can just as easily create a false identity for me, don't you think?"
"Perhaps," I reluctantly allowed. "What would life in Forks have looked like without you, then?"
Nadia leaned forward and gestured towards the timeline. "See here?" she said, tapping the space between Charlie and Cora's marriage date and her birthdate. "Nadia Swan was conceived out of wedlock. It's why they married five months before she was born."
"And you're saying they would not have married otherwise?"
"Exactly," Nadia said. "In a different world, Nadia Swan would not exist, Charlie would be alone, and Bella would be an only child."
"I see," I said, though I remained unconvinced. Nadia had made some fair points, but it was difficult to imagine the kind of magic required to create not only the memory of a person spanning the last fourteen (nearly fifteen) years, but also, the person herself. Besides, if Charlie and Cora had not conceived a child, it still would not have erased the possibility that they could have ended up together. And even if I could use my telepathy as proof that other-Nadia had existed, I was sure she would also attribute that to the foreign magic she spoke of, despite the extreme level of detail I had witnessed in the memories of several others. "Where exactly did you find this crystal?"
"A national park down in California," Nadia said, once again surprising me with the ordinariness of her response. "We were taking a tour of their crystal caves during a school field trip."
"You made your wish then?"
Nadia shrugged, expression nonchalant with disinterest, as though there was hardly anything extraordinary about her tale. "Yes. It's the last place I remember being in."
I considered her response, unable to detect any hint of dishonesty in her voice. But Nadia was more commonly expressive in her words and facial cues. I didn't believe she was lying, but similarly, she was not revealing the entire truth.
It was the smallest trace of fear in her eyes which kept me from further pushing her for information.
Instead, I tapped on the final date she had listed and said, "It appears we arrived to Forks on the same day." It was a peculiar coincidence, but not the strangest of things I'd learned from her thus far.
When Nadia's expression brightened up with a sudden smile, I knew I had made the right choice.
"Really?" she asked, leaning forward again to examine the date with renewed interest.
"Yes, it was exactly a week before school started," I recalled. "It didn't allow us a lot of time to settle in, but it took nearly the entirety of the summer for the house renovations to be completed."
"Oh, I bet! I know I already said it, but your home really is beautiful," Nadia gushed. "I can only dream of living in a place like that."
I chuckled, a swell of pride for my mother figure blossoming in my chest. "I'm sure Esme would love to design a home for you one day. She works remotely, so wherever you live, you'd be able to procure her services."
"I might hold you to that," Nadia warned me teasingly. "Though I can't imagine I'd be able to afford something nearly so extravagant."
"I'll vouch for you," I said with a wink. "Offer you the friends and family discount."
Nadia giggled. "I'll need that in writing please."
"I'll get it squared away with Esme. She won't say no," I promised her. "After all, I am her favorite."
"As arrogant as you sound right now, I actually believe you," Nadia said with a grin as she glanced towards the kitchen clock on the wall. "Speaking of moms, Cora will be home soon. Did you want to stay for dinner?"
"Ah no, my brother should be around to pick me up any minute now," I lied. "But thank you. Perhaps, another time."
The light rainfall that had begun some time ago swelled, beginning to thud loudly against the roof of the house.
"Is it raining?!" Nadia gasped and shot up to her feet. "I need to go upstairs and close the windows before everything gets drenched. Do you mind showing yourself out if your brother gets here before I'm done?"
"Of course not, you go ahead," I said, taking it for the opportunity that it was.
"Thanks! Bye, Edward!" she called, already sprinting for the stairs.
With no one around to witness my unnatural speed, I moved to pile the spread of aged documents and old pictures into a neat stack in one split second. I wasn't sure how long Nadia had before Cora would arrive, but it would at least save her the trouble of trying to gather everything before Cora caught sight of anything unusual.
Since the least questionable items were the photographs, I left those to cover up the records, the topmost picture a closeup of a young Nadia. As with the rest of the framed pictures suspended along the walls of the living room, her wide eyes were dark, though the film had managed to capture their specific shade of chocolate brown, identical to that of Chief Swan and Bella. For a moment, I struggled to understand why it struck me as odd, before I realized Nadia was nearly finished upstairs.
Just as she was rushing to slide shut the set of windows in the third bedroom, I slipped out of the house and vanished into the black maw of the surrounding forests.
A/N: Wow, look at me, updating a third week in a row. Y'all should be so proud.
Anywho, I hope you all liked the chapter! And as always, reviews are the ultimate love language!