The Emotional Education of Edward Cullen - Chapter 4
Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3.
Author: Picklewinkle (ff.net)/JCAddict (LJ)
Characters/Pairing: Edward & Bella
Rating: M
Category: Drama/Angst/Romance
Spoilers: None
Summary: Edward Cullen is brilliant and complicated but also closed off and socially inept. Can Bella teach him how to tap into and understand his emotions through an unorthodox experiment without breaking her own heart in the process? AH.
Chapter 4: You Caught Me Off Guard
DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the words, plot and lackluster formatting belong to me.
I wanted to express my gratitude to Project Team Beta again. If you need a beta, consider using them. It's an incredible opportunity to have some positive feedback and constructive criticism about your work. Most especially, thank you to Nijiska and Scorp112 for their beta work on this chapter.
BPOV
"Bella, is that you?" I heard Charlie ask as soon as I closed the door behind me. I kicked off my shoes, hung up my coat, and headed to the kitchen. He was sitting at the table and glared at me when I appeared.
"Hi, Dad," I mumbled, grabbing the phonebook and disappearing upstairs.
I looked up the number for Stan's Carpet & Upholstery Service. We'd used them after Charlie's World Series party a few months ago, and they had done such a good job on the carpet that it looked brand new. If anyone could save Edward's mother's couch, it was Stan. I explained the situation and gave him Edward's address. I even talked him into going over right away. I wanted to strike while the iron was hot, before Edward could find a way to say no.
I quickly phoned Edward's house and left a message on his answering machine. I asked him to let Stan clean the couch, rambling a little bit while I tried to put the rest of my thoughts into words. I made sure he knew I was sorry for making him uncomfortable. I wasn't sorry for kissing him, but that wasn't exactly something I could admit. I wanted him to know that I appreciated what he did for me and that I really wanted to pay the favor back sometime, even if it was on his terms.
"Where the hell have you been?" Charlie asked when I hung up the phone. I couldn't decide whether he was actually pissed off at me or just uncomfortable that he was almost in my room.
"I stayed at a friend's house."
"The same one that you got into trouble with?"
"I didn't get into any trouble," I informed him curtly.
"The hospital said otherwise. They contacted the station about the incident. Geez, Bella, you could have at least called to tell me what happened." His expression was a mixture of irritation and disbelief.
"Why, Dad? It's not as if you could have done anything. Besides, the lake is a pretty much a dead zone."
"I know the cell signal at the lake is unreliable, but you still could have left a message at home."
"You weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow. Why would I leave myself a message when it's just as easy to tell you when you got home?"
"Would you have told me when I got home?"
"Probably not."
"Why? Are you hiding something?"
"No, Dad. Just because I didn't want to share that some asshole drugged me and tried to shove his hands down my pants, doesn't mean that I'm hiding something."
"But you didn't talk to the counselor at the hospital either."
"Truthfully, I don't remember anyone offering me counseling, but I wouldn't have wasted the hospital's time. It wasn't a big deal. I was lucky that a friend was nearby and stepped in before anything really bad happened."
"You can't depend on luck in this kind of situation. I've taught you to be more careful."
"It could have happened to anyone," I said quietly, reminding myself of the truth more than defending my behavior to my dad.
"But it didn't happen to anyone. It happened to you. Think about how I felt when the station called me."
"Oh, I'm sorry," I said sarcastically. "I can totally see how this is my fault. I am a complete dimwit. Next time someone slips me a roofie, I'll be sure to hide so I can save you the shame of my actions."
"Watch your mouth, young lady. I never said this was your fault, but if you're keeping the wrong company, it certainly makes this type of scenario more likely. What kind of lowlifes are you hanging around with, Bella?"
"The lowest of the low," I said maliciously. "The infamous miscreant: Mike Newton."
"You're saying Mike Newton drugged you?" he asked incredulously.
"He was the only one I was with, Dad."
"That's a very serious accusation, Bella. I mean...Mike's a good kid. He's always been very respectful to me. And he's on the football team, and he works part time at his parent's store to help them out."
I huffed and rolled my eyes, pissed off that he seemed to be defending Mike.
"I know it's serious. Regardless of what you think of him, I'm telling you the truth."
"If you want to press charges, we're going to have to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mike was responsible, and that's very difficult in a he-said-she-said situation. We should go down to the station to fill out a report."
What was the point? My own father didn't believe me.
"You don't have to worry about proving anything. I don't want to press charges. Since I wasn't hurt, I'd rather just put the whole thing behind me and forget it ever happened."
"Well, I can go have a word with his parents if you'd like?"
"For what, Dad? He's only going to deny it. Besides, you know how people in this town love to gossip. If you think it was embarrassing when the station called to tell you what happened, wait until people start to discuss it at the grocery store or the post office. You won't be able to show your face anywhere." I rolled my eyes for effect. The best way to shut my dad up was to piss him off.
"Great, Bella. Your sarcasm is really helpful. I'm not the bad guy here. Pardon me for not knowing the best way to handle a delicate situation."
How hard was it to believe that your daughter was telling the truth and take her word over some random kid? For my dad, it was impossible.
"There's no situation. Just forget the hospital ever called."
"Are you sure that's how you want to handle it?"
"Positive."
"And you're sure you're okay?"
"I'm golden."
"Next time you're in trouble, I expect a phone call," he said quietly.
"Sure thing," I mumbled, turning my back to him and pretending to get something out of my backpack. I didn't want him to see the tears in my eyes.
Charlie hesitated, probably searching for something to say. Unable to bridge the gap with anything that would help, he eventually wandered away. I tried to appreciate his effort. He wasn't any good at father-daughter stuff, and I was absolutely crappy at being patient and waiting for him to try. It was just easier to have him fall short and act in a predictable manner than it was to get my hopes up and be disappointed by his effort.
After I calmed down, I felt guilty for giving him such a hard time, so I went downstairs to look for him. I found him on the phone. He didn't know I was there.
"She's safe… I know, Billy… Yeah, I know, but… I failed Renee; I don't want to fail Bella… Sometimes I think she has a little bit too much of her mother in her."
If nothing else, I had impeccable timing, and at least I didn't have to feel bad about anything I'd said to him any longer. I knew I couldn't control what he thought about me, not with regard to the situation with Mike or my mother, but he was wrong. If I were like my mother, I would have left him, too. Instead, I had been waiting around for him to be a father for the past eight years. I guess I was more patient than I'd given myself credit for.
I went back up to my room and locked the door, refusing to spend another second upset over my dad or Mike. I snuggled up under my comforter and let my memory of kissing Edward monopolize me. I was going to need a plan. Now that our paths had finally crossed, there was no way I was going to just let him slip out of my life again.
EPOV
Even though I was alone now, the awkwardness I felt in Bella's presence lingered irrationally. I simply wanted to understand what I felt when she kissed me, to define it in some manner so I could process it and put it behind me. I didn't know where to begin. I'd never felt anything like it before and had no frame of reference to help me interpret it. I didn't know if it was physiological, psychological or some convoluted combination of the two. The only thing I knew for sure was that the answer was complicated; everything with emotions was, especially for me. I was definitely out of my element.
Her kiss certainly brought a physical reaction in my body, a rush of adrenaline and excitement that had taken me off guard in the same way the kiss itself had. It was the pressure of her lips against mine that drew me in, focusing my attention on her mouth and the erotic nature of our connection. When she pulled her body into mine, my reaction to her intensified. The feeling of her pressed against me left my skin tingling in every spot where our bodies connected. Everything about my reaction pointed to hormones, and I wasn't sure how to differentiate between that or whatever else it might be.
It would have been simple to blame my hormones and call it lust. I'd spent the night aroused by all kinds of crazy sexual fantasies about Bella, and I had no trouble admitting that I found her pretty. I'd felt lust before, though. It was purely sexual, no thought or emotion involved. Lust was a passing thrill that could be entirely nullified by a hot shower and my hand. Even though there was a sexual element to consider in the equation, I felt no compulsion to think of Bella and jerk off. Whatever I was feeling was definitely more than unfulfilled libido.
Logically, if my reaction were entirely hormonal, then the effect of kissing Bella should have long ago passed. It had not. That seemed to indicate that my reaction had more than just a chemical component. The notion was rather ironic considering I equated love to a chemical reaction, much to Bella's chagrin. But this wasn't love either. The idea of love at first sight was corny and completely illogical. Was there a middle ground between lust and love, and if so, what was it exactly?
What I felt had to be significant on some level. After all, a girl I'd known all my life was suddenly the focus of my every thought. Last night, she was just an old friend in need, a girl any decent person would help. Today, I was concerned with whether the kiss she used as a weapon against Mike meant something to her. I wasn't seeing her in the same light as before. It was almost as if that kiss served to redefine Bella in my mind, transforming her from desirable to desired. And maybe that was the simplest label for what I was feeling - desire.
I mulled over the notion of desire and the implications of it. After all, just because I desired her didn't mean I had to act on it. Aside from school, our lives didn't intersect, and it would be simple enough to avoid her there if I wanted to remove her from my life. I simply didn't want to. I might not understand the inner workings of what I felt, but I understood the need to explore it further.
Her phone call seemed to indicate that she enjoyed my company, too. At least it wasn't pity that made her smile at me. I was guardedly optimistic about that fact. It gave me a reason to move forward, but move forward how? I needed a casual way to interact with her outside of the prying eyes at school, but the places where I spent my time were not ones where I would simply run across her. A normal person might make use of the phone, but creating random conversation wasn't my strong suit, and I didn't feel confident enough to invite myself into her life by showing up at her door. The only open avenue that I could see was asking her out on a date, and I knew I wasn't ready for that kind of pressure. A date would be too social, too public, and too full of expectations. There was no way I was going to put myself on display when I wasn't even sure what I felt was of any consequence.
I was at a dead end of sorts, with no way to determine if Bella felt something when she kissed me, no way to interact with her where I at least had a chance to be comfortable, and no way to further my understanding of my own feelings. Her kiss was fresh in my mind, but that didn't mean it wouldn't dissipate with time. Perhaps assigning permanence to what I was feeling was premature. Maybe the best thing was to do nothing at all and give myself a chance to get over it.
I didn't really know Bella, but she was a girl, and that meant a hassle would surely accompany a relationship of any kind with her. We'd proved our friendship didn't work years ago, and nothing had really changed that would alter that fact - not a few dreams, or being in the same place at the same time, or a kiss of convenience. Avoiding an entanglement with her was probably easier for me all the way around.
By the end of Christmas break, I had myself convinced that I had nothing more than sexual chemistry with Bella. She popped into my thoughts less and less with each day, although admittedly, I pushed her out when she appeared. The one place I had no control over was my dreams, but her frequency in them dwindled too. I was confident when school started up again that whatever I thought I felt was behind me.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
I wasn't at school more than five minutes before I ran into her. She spoke a quiet hello as I passed her, a shy smile on her lips. All I could do was stare as I walked by her. I might have smiled, I couldn't remember. My mind was desperately trying to put back up all the walls that were dismantled by that one tiny grin. It became obvious in that instant that I had deluded myself into believing that whatever I felt wasn't real. It was very real, and I was entirely uncomfortable with the realization.
The morning went by in a blur, and I skipped lunch altogether. I didn't want to chance running into Bella. I just wanted to get through the day so I could go home and hide from everything. Even though I understood the futility of that choice, I focused on the indulgence of avoidance. My day ended with a free period. With my imminent escape only moments away, I headed to the parking lot feeling relieved. The relief was fleeting, quickly replaced by anxiety when I found Bella waiting by my car. Knowing I couldn't avoid her, I willed my composure and reminded myself that I was capable of speaking to her.
"Did you need a ride?" I asked. It was a lame beginning, but a beginning nonetheless.
"No, I've got my truck." She pointed towards an ancient truck parked a few spots down from mine.
"That's yours?"
"Don't hate on the truck. It gets me from point A to B, and that's all I need it to do."
"I wasn't hating on it. I was just…surprised. I imagined you in a compact sedan, like a Honda Civic maybe," I explained.
"You imagined me?"
"No, I mean I figured…"
Bella interrupted me before I could finish my thought.
"I know what you meant. I was just teasing, Edward. I'd prefer to drive a Honda Civic. They're much cuter than the behemoth I drive, but also much more expensive. The truck was a gift from my dad, and free was good with me. Besides, we can't all drive a luxurious, sophisticated Volvo."
"You forgot fast."
"Excuse me?"
"The best part of the Volvo is its speed."
"Is that a fact? I never would have guessed you were a lead foot."
"What good is a car if it doesn't respond when you need it to?" I waited for Bella to reply to my statement, but she said nothing. Her silence made me feel self-conscious. "You disagree?"
"Not at all. I just wouldn't know what a responsive vehicle was, even if I kicked it in the muffler. My truck is anti-responsive. I have to talk nicely to it just to get it to start, and begging is involved if I need it to go above fifty."
I laughed. I couldn't help myself. It was partly relief in realizing I hadn't screwed up by saying the wrong thing and partly delight in her sarcasm. She laughed too, and the way it affected my body made me feel awkward and obvious. I tried to cut off my reaction by refocusing on Bella's intentions.
"Did you need something?"
"Do I have to need something to talk to you?"
"You were waiting by my car. I assumed it wasn't random."
"It wasn't. I wanted say hello and ask if the couch came clean."
"Yes, thank you. The company you sent over did a superb job. My mother didn't suspect a thing."
"Good. I would have felt horrible if you'd gotten in trouble."
"Thank you, by the way. That was a good idea. I should have thought of it myself."
"I was glad to help…"
The silence quickly became uncomfortable. Bella looked down and kicked at a pebble with the toe of her shoe.
"So, um, is it okay to talk to you at school?" she asked. "You looked a little bit irritated when I said hi this morning."
"I wasn't expecting to see you."
"We go to school together. We see each other every day."
The truth was that most days I walked through the halls without really noticing anyone.
"I wasn't expecting to see you first thing this morning," I clarified, hoping she'd drop her train of thought. "I was running a bit late, and you caught me off guard."
"You're on guard?"
She took everything I said literally. It was a strange realization because it meant she was paying attention to what I said. I had become too used to people ignoring me, either not understanding what I said or not caring about it.
"My mind was elsewhere."
"Because you seemed kind of on guard."
"Why would I be on guard with you?" I asked mockingly, trying to offload her accusation and shuffle the responsibility of the awkwardness between us back onto her.
"Because I make you uncomfortable. Because you don't always know what to say in social situations. Because you're still mad about that kiss." Her voice became quieter with each reason. I wondered if it was because she felt uneasy pointing out my obvious shortcomings or if she knew I did.
"It's none of those things."
"Well, I apologized for the kiss, and you don't need to feel uncomfortable around me. I don't always know what to say. Sometimes I just laugh or change the subject."
"I don't feel uncomfortable around you," I assured her, wishing it was true even though I knew it was a lie.
"So you normally avoid everyone and only speak when spoken to, except when someone says hi?"
"I smiled back at you."
"It looked more like a grimace."
It was clear that she wasn't going to let this go, and I didn't see the point in continuing.
"I tried…I should go."
"Do you run away from everything?" she asked softly. There was a hint of disbelief in her tone that I didn't understand.
"Do you really need to hear that your observations about me are true?" I tried to keep my voice controlled but irritation seeped into my tone.
"You sell yourself short. I don't believe those things about you, but it's pretty obvious you do."
"What do you know about what I believe?" I seethed sarcastically.
"I know that you don't even try most of the time because people can be cruel and it sucks to get rejected again and again. I know that you've lumped the entire student body into the same category without giving most of us the benefit of the doubt that we might understand how you feel. And I know that you're uncomfortable around me, maybe because I can see all of this stuff about you."
"We haven't been friends for years. I don't really care about what you think you know."
"If you didn't care then you wouldn't be standing here defending yourself, and you wouldn't have helped me with Mike."
"You're back to that are you?"
"Can I have a ride home?"
"You said you didn't need one."
"My truck won't start."
"Bella, what do you want?" I demanded angrily.
"I could ask you the same question."
"You're infuriating!"
I'd had enough and reached around Bella to open the car door.
"I thought we could be friends," she whispered timidly.
"You have a strange way of showing it."
"I told you I don't always know what to say."
She gently laid her hand on mine, and I froze. Tiny flickers of electricity caromed between her palm and my skin, almost as if the air around us had electrified.
"That makes two of us," I mumbled.
I turned to face her again. Her eyes were sad and wistful like they were at the hospital when she spoke of her father.
"I'm sorry if I've gone about this the wrong way. I wasn't trying to make you feel cornered or pressure you into anything. I just didn't want to let the opportunity to reconnect with you slip away."
Her choice of words struck a chord in me. Opportunity. It seemed foolish to pass up what she was offering when I was looking for a way to figure out what she made me feel. I'd been so focused on avoidance that I let my awkwardness get the better of me.
"I don't think on my feet very well. I wasn't consciously trying to push you away, but sometimes my lack of social skills gets in the way."
"Friends?" she asked.
My eyes wandered to our hands, and I absently wondered if she felt the current of energy between us.
"Friends," I agreed.
We made plans to study at the library on Thursday. That gave me three days to figure out what the hell I would say to her.
A/N: Anybody want to guess what's going to happen at the library? I'd love to hear your theories! :) Yes, I'm asking for a review. Pretty please?
Author: Picklewinkle (ff.net)/JCAddict (LJ)
Characters/Pairing: Edward & Bella
Rating: M
Category: Drama/Angst/Romance
Spoilers: None
Summary: Edward Cullen is brilliant and complicated but also closed off and socially inept. Can Bella teach him how to tap into and understand his emotions through an unorthodox experiment without breaking her own heart in the process? AH.
Chapter 4: You Caught Me Off Guard
DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the words, plot and lackluster formatting belong to me.
I wanted to express my gratitude to Project Team Beta again. If you need a beta, consider using them. It's an incredible opportunity to have some positive feedback and constructive criticism about your work. Most especially, thank you to Nijiska and Scorp112 for their beta work on this chapter.
BPOV
"Bella, is that you?" I heard Charlie ask as soon as I closed the door behind me. I kicked off my shoes, hung up my coat, and headed to the kitchen. He was sitting at the table and glared at me when I appeared.
"Hi, Dad," I mumbled, grabbing the phonebook and disappearing upstairs.
I looked up the number for Stan's Carpet & Upholstery Service. We'd used them after Charlie's World Series party a few months ago, and they had done such a good job on the carpet that it looked brand new. If anyone could save Edward's mother's couch, it was Stan. I explained the situation and gave him Edward's address. I even talked him into going over right away. I wanted to strike while the iron was hot, before Edward could find a way to say no.
I quickly phoned Edward's house and left a message on his answering machine. I asked him to let Stan clean the couch, rambling a little bit while I tried to put the rest of my thoughts into words. I made sure he knew I was sorry for making him uncomfortable. I wasn't sorry for kissing him, but that wasn't exactly something I could admit. I wanted him to know that I appreciated what he did for me and that I really wanted to pay the favor back sometime, even if it was on his terms.
"Where the hell have you been?" Charlie asked when I hung up the phone. I couldn't decide whether he was actually pissed off at me or just uncomfortable that he was almost in my room.
"I stayed at a friend's house."
"The same one that you got into trouble with?"
"I didn't get into any trouble," I informed him curtly.
"The hospital said otherwise. They contacted the station about the incident. Geez, Bella, you could have at least called to tell me what happened." His expression was a mixture of irritation and disbelief.
"Why, Dad? It's not as if you could have done anything. Besides, the lake is a pretty much a dead zone."
"I know the cell signal at the lake is unreliable, but you still could have left a message at home."
"You weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow. Why would I leave myself a message when it's just as easy to tell you when you got home?"
"Would you have told me when I got home?"
"Probably not."
"Why? Are you hiding something?"
"No, Dad. Just because I didn't want to share that some asshole drugged me and tried to shove his hands down my pants, doesn't mean that I'm hiding something."
"But you didn't talk to the counselor at the hospital either."
"Truthfully, I don't remember anyone offering me counseling, but I wouldn't have wasted the hospital's time. It wasn't a big deal. I was lucky that a friend was nearby and stepped in before anything really bad happened."
"You can't depend on luck in this kind of situation. I've taught you to be more careful."
"It could have happened to anyone," I said quietly, reminding myself of the truth more than defending my behavior to my dad.
"But it didn't happen to anyone. It happened to you. Think about how I felt when the station called me."
"Oh, I'm sorry," I said sarcastically. "I can totally see how this is my fault. I am a complete dimwit. Next time someone slips me a roofie, I'll be sure to hide so I can save you the shame of my actions."
"Watch your mouth, young lady. I never said this was your fault, but if you're keeping the wrong company, it certainly makes this type of scenario more likely. What kind of lowlifes are you hanging around with, Bella?"
"The lowest of the low," I said maliciously. "The infamous miscreant: Mike Newton."
"You're saying Mike Newton drugged you?" he asked incredulously.
"He was the only one I was with, Dad."
"That's a very serious accusation, Bella. I mean...Mike's a good kid. He's always been very respectful to me. And he's on the football team, and he works part time at his parent's store to help them out."
I huffed and rolled my eyes, pissed off that he seemed to be defending Mike.
"I know it's serious. Regardless of what you think of him, I'm telling you the truth."
"If you want to press charges, we're going to have to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mike was responsible, and that's very difficult in a he-said-she-said situation. We should go down to the station to fill out a report."
What was the point? My own father didn't believe me.
"You don't have to worry about proving anything. I don't want to press charges. Since I wasn't hurt, I'd rather just put the whole thing behind me and forget it ever happened."
"Well, I can go have a word with his parents if you'd like?"
"For what, Dad? He's only going to deny it. Besides, you know how people in this town love to gossip. If you think it was embarrassing when the station called to tell you what happened, wait until people start to discuss it at the grocery store or the post office. You won't be able to show your face anywhere." I rolled my eyes for effect. The best way to shut my dad up was to piss him off.
"Great, Bella. Your sarcasm is really helpful. I'm not the bad guy here. Pardon me for not knowing the best way to handle a delicate situation."
How hard was it to believe that your daughter was telling the truth and take her word over some random kid? For my dad, it was impossible.
"There's no situation. Just forget the hospital ever called."
"Are you sure that's how you want to handle it?"
"Positive."
"And you're sure you're okay?"
"I'm golden."
"Next time you're in trouble, I expect a phone call," he said quietly.
"Sure thing," I mumbled, turning my back to him and pretending to get something out of my backpack. I didn't want him to see the tears in my eyes.
Charlie hesitated, probably searching for something to say. Unable to bridge the gap with anything that would help, he eventually wandered away. I tried to appreciate his effort. He wasn't any good at father-daughter stuff, and I was absolutely crappy at being patient and waiting for him to try. It was just easier to have him fall short and act in a predictable manner than it was to get my hopes up and be disappointed by his effort.
After I calmed down, I felt guilty for giving him such a hard time, so I went downstairs to look for him. I found him on the phone. He didn't know I was there.
"She's safe… I know, Billy… Yeah, I know, but… I failed Renee; I don't want to fail Bella… Sometimes I think she has a little bit too much of her mother in her."
If nothing else, I had impeccable timing, and at least I didn't have to feel bad about anything I'd said to him any longer. I knew I couldn't control what he thought about me, not with regard to the situation with Mike or my mother, but he was wrong. If I were like my mother, I would have left him, too. Instead, I had been waiting around for him to be a father for the past eight years. I guess I was more patient than I'd given myself credit for.
I went back up to my room and locked the door, refusing to spend another second upset over my dad or Mike. I snuggled up under my comforter and let my memory of kissing Edward monopolize me. I was going to need a plan. Now that our paths had finally crossed, there was no way I was going to just let him slip out of my life again.
EPOV
Even though I was alone now, the awkwardness I felt in Bella's presence lingered irrationally. I simply wanted to understand what I felt when she kissed me, to define it in some manner so I could process it and put it behind me. I didn't know where to begin. I'd never felt anything like it before and had no frame of reference to help me interpret it. I didn't know if it was physiological, psychological or some convoluted combination of the two. The only thing I knew for sure was that the answer was complicated; everything with emotions was, especially for me. I was definitely out of my element.
Her kiss certainly brought a physical reaction in my body, a rush of adrenaline and excitement that had taken me off guard in the same way the kiss itself had. It was the pressure of her lips against mine that drew me in, focusing my attention on her mouth and the erotic nature of our connection. When she pulled her body into mine, my reaction to her intensified. The feeling of her pressed against me left my skin tingling in every spot where our bodies connected. Everything about my reaction pointed to hormones, and I wasn't sure how to differentiate between that or whatever else it might be.
It would have been simple to blame my hormones and call it lust. I'd spent the night aroused by all kinds of crazy sexual fantasies about Bella, and I had no trouble admitting that I found her pretty. I'd felt lust before, though. It was purely sexual, no thought or emotion involved. Lust was a passing thrill that could be entirely nullified by a hot shower and my hand. Even though there was a sexual element to consider in the equation, I felt no compulsion to think of Bella and jerk off. Whatever I was feeling was definitely more than unfulfilled libido.
Logically, if my reaction were entirely hormonal, then the effect of kissing Bella should have long ago passed. It had not. That seemed to indicate that my reaction had more than just a chemical component. The notion was rather ironic considering I equated love to a chemical reaction, much to Bella's chagrin. But this wasn't love either. The idea of love at first sight was corny and completely illogical. Was there a middle ground between lust and love, and if so, what was it exactly?
What I felt had to be significant on some level. After all, a girl I'd known all my life was suddenly the focus of my every thought. Last night, she was just an old friend in need, a girl any decent person would help. Today, I was concerned with whether the kiss she used as a weapon against Mike meant something to her. I wasn't seeing her in the same light as before. It was almost as if that kiss served to redefine Bella in my mind, transforming her from desirable to desired. And maybe that was the simplest label for what I was feeling - desire.
I mulled over the notion of desire and the implications of it. After all, just because I desired her didn't mean I had to act on it. Aside from school, our lives didn't intersect, and it would be simple enough to avoid her there if I wanted to remove her from my life. I simply didn't want to. I might not understand the inner workings of what I felt, but I understood the need to explore it further.
Her phone call seemed to indicate that she enjoyed my company, too. At least it wasn't pity that made her smile at me. I was guardedly optimistic about that fact. It gave me a reason to move forward, but move forward how? I needed a casual way to interact with her outside of the prying eyes at school, but the places where I spent my time were not ones where I would simply run across her. A normal person might make use of the phone, but creating random conversation wasn't my strong suit, and I didn't feel confident enough to invite myself into her life by showing up at her door. The only open avenue that I could see was asking her out on a date, and I knew I wasn't ready for that kind of pressure. A date would be too social, too public, and too full of expectations. There was no way I was going to put myself on display when I wasn't even sure what I felt was of any consequence.
I was at a dead end of sorts, with no way to determine if Bella felt something when she kissed me, no way to interact with her where I at least had a chance to be comfortable, and no way to further my understanding of my own feelings. Her kiss was fresh in my mind, but that didn't mean it wouldn't dissipate with time. Perhaps assigning permanence to what I was feeling was premature. Maybe the best thing was to do nothing at all and give myself a chance to get over it.
I didn't really know Bella, but she was a girl, and that meant a hassle would surely accompany a relationship of any kind with her. We'd proved our friendship didn't work years ago, and nothing had really changed that would alter that fact - not a few dreams, or being in the same place at the same time, or a kiss of convenience. Avoiding an entanglement with her was probably easier for me all the way around.
By the end of Christmas break, I had myself convinced that I had nothing more than sexual chemistry with Bella. She popped into my thoughts less and less with each day, although admittedly, I pushed her out when she appeared. The one place I had no control over was my dreams, but her frequency in them dwindled too. I was confident when school started up again that whatever I thought I felt was behind me.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
I wasn't at school more than five minutes before I ran into her. She spoke a quiet hello as I passed her, a shy smile on her lips. All I could do was stare as I walked by her. I might have smiled, I couldn't remember. My mind was desperately trying to put back up all the walls that were dismantled by that one tiny grin. It became obvious in that instant that I had deluded myself into believing that whatever I felt wasn't real. It was very real, and I was entirely uncomfortable with the realization.
The morning went by in a blur, and I skipped lunch altogether. I didn't want to chance running into Bella. I just wanted to get through the day so I could go home and hide from everything. Even though I understood the futility of that choice, I focused on the indulgence of avoidance. My day ended with a free period. With my imminent escape only moments away, I headed to the parking lot feeling relieved. The relief was fleeting, quickly replaced by anxiety when I found Bella waiting by my car. Knowing I couldn't avoid her, I willed my composure and reminded myself that I was capable of speaking to her.
"Did you need a ride?" I asked. It was a lame beginning, but a beginning nonetheless.
"No, I've got my truck." She pointed towards an ancient truck parked a few spots down from mine.
"That's yours?"
"Don't hate on the truck. It gets me from point A to B, and that's all I need it to do."
"I wasn't hating on it. I was just…surprised. I imagined you in a compact sedan, like a Honda Civic maybe," I explained.
"You imagined me?"
"No, I mean I figured…"
Bella interrupted me before I could finish my thought.
"I know what you meant. I was just teasing, Edward. I'd prefer to drive a Honda Civic. They're much cuter than the behemoth I drive, but also much more expensive. The truck was a gift from my dad, and free was good with me. Besides, we can't all drive a luxurious, sophisticated Volvo."
"You forgot fast."
"Excuse me?"
"The best part of the Volvo is its speed."
"Is that a fact? I never would have guessed you were a lead foot."
"What good is a car if it doesn't respond when you need it to?" I waited for Bella to reply to my statement, but she said nothing. Her silence made me feel self-conscious. "You disagree?"
"Not at all. I just wouldn't know what a responsive vehicle was, even if I kicked it in the muffler. My truck is anti-responsive. I have to talk nicely to it just to get it to start, and begging is involved if I need it to go above fifty."
I laughed. I couldn't help myself. It was partly relief in realizing I hadn't screwed up by saying the wrong thing and partly delight in her sarcasm. She laughed too, and the way it affected my body made me feel awkward and obvious. I tried to cut off my reaction by refocusing on Bella's intentions.
"Did you need something?"
"Do I have to need something to talk to you?"
"You were waiting by my car. I assumed it wasn't random."
"It wasn't. I wanted say hello and ask if the couch came clean."
"Yes, thank you. The company you sent over did a superb job. My mother didn't suspect a thing."
"Good. I would have felt horrible if you'd gotten in trouble."
"Thank you, by the way. That was a good idea. I should have thought of it myself."
"I was glad to help…"
The silence quickly became uncomfortable. Bella looked down and kicked at a pebble with the toe of her shoe.
"So, um, is it okay to talk to you at school?" she asked. "You looked a little bit irritated when I said hi this morning."
"I wasn't expecting to see you."
"We go to school together. We see each other every day."
The truth was that most days I walked through the halls without really noticing anyone.
"I wasn't expecting to see you first thing this morning," I clarified, hoping she'd drop her train of thought. "I was running a bit late, and you caught me off guard."
"You're on guard?"
She took everything I said literally. It was a strange realization because it meant she was paying attention to what I said. I had become too used to people ignoring me, either not understanding what I said or not caring about it.
"My mind was elsewhere."
"Because you seemed kind of on guard."
"Why would I be on guard with you?" I asked mockingly, trying to offload her accusation and shuffle the responsibility of the awkwardness between us back onto her.
"Because I make you uncomfortable. Because you don't always know what to say in social situations. Because you're still mad about that kiss." Her voice became quieter with each reason. I wondered if it was because she felt uneasy pointing out my obvious shortcomings or if she knew I did.
"It's none of those things."
"Well, I apologized for the kiss, and you don't need to feel uncomfortable around me. I don't always know what to say. Sometimes I just laugh or change the subject."
"I don't feel uncomfortable around you," I assured her, wishing it was true even though I knew it was a lie.
"So you normally avoid everyone and only speak when spoken to, except when someone says hi?"
"I smiled back at you."
"It looked more like a grimace."
It was clear that she wasn't going to let this go, and I didn't see the point in continuing.
"I tried…I should go."
"Do you run away from everything?" she asked softly. There was a hint of disbelief in her tone that I didn't understand.
"Do you really need to hear that your observations about me are true?" I tried to keep my voice controlled but irritation seeped into my tone.
"You sell yourself short. I don't believe those things about you, but it's pretty obvious you do."
"What do you know about what I believe?" I seethed sarcastically.
"I know that you don't even try most of the time because people can be cruel and it sucks to get rejected again and again. I know that you've lumped the entire student body into the same category without giving most of us the benefit of the doubt that we might understand how you feel. And I know that you're uncomfortable around me, maybe because I can see all of this stuff about you."
"We haven't been friends for years. I don't really care about what you think you know."
"If you didn't care then you wouldn't be standing here defending yourself, and you wouldn't have helped me with Mike."
"You're back to that are you?"
"Can I have a ride home?"
"You said you didn't need one."
"My truck won't start."
"Bella, what do you want?" I demanded angrily.
"I could ask you the same question."
"You're infuriating!"
I'd had enough and reached around Bella to open the car door.
"I thought we could be friends," she whispered timidly.
"You have a strange way of showing it."
"I told you I don't always know what to say."
She gently laid her hand on mine, and I froze. Tiny flickers of electricity caromed between her palm and my skin, almost as if the air around us had electrified.
"That makes two of us," I mumbled.
I turned to face her again. Her eyes were sad and wistful like they were at the hospital when she spoke of her father.
"I'm sorry if I've gone about this the wrong way. I wasn't trying to make you feel cornered or pressure you into anything. I just didn't want to let the opportunity to reconnect with you slip away."
Her choice of words struck a chord in me. Opportunity. It seemed foolish to pass up what she was offering when I was looking for a way to figure out what she made me feel. I'd been so focused on avoidance that I let my awkwardness get the better of me.
"I don't think on my feet very well. I wasn't consciously trying to push you away, but sometimes my lack of social skills gets in the way."
"Friends?" she asked.
My eyes wandered to our hands, and I absently wondered if she felt the current of energy between us.
"Friends," I agreed.
We made plans to study at the library on Thursday. That gave me three days to figure out what the hell I would say to her.
A/N: Anybody want to guess what's going to happen at the library? I'd love to hear your theories! :) Yes, I'm asking for a review. Pretty please?