~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
Chapter 16 - Caution
EPOV
"Edward, son, wake up. We're in Seattle," Dad says as he shakes my arm.
Groaning and still bleary-eyed, I stretch my legs and back.
"I'm too tall to sleep in the car," I grouch and scowl when I bump my elbow sitting up.
He chuckles and hands me a bottle of water.
"In about twenty minutes you're going to wish you were back in the car." He nods toward the window.
"Just great," I mutter, already hating the thought of playing in this weather.
It's not storming, but it is raining - that soaking, slow but steady kind that's just light enough to keep the games from being called. Not that I want to miss out on playing, but shit, I'm just not in the mood to slip and slide in the mud all day.
"Good thing your mother reminded you to pack extra cleats, huh?" he chides as he flicks the blinker and we turn toward the fields.
"Dad, I've been packing my own gear for years now. I already had them in my bag, shin guards and socks, too, thank you very much," I say with a roll of my eyes.
I drink the rest of the water. Dad gets in the last word, "You know she worries; it's her right as a mother. And next year you'll be off on your own and she won't be able to fuss over you, so let her enjoy it now."
I sigh.
"Dad," I whine. "Come on. I have two games today, a team meeting tonight, and another game tomorrow. I don't need a guilt trip on top of everything else I have to worry about this weekend. You know ODP showcase games are always intense."
He turns down the road where our first game is. I stare out the window, really wishing I could find one of Doc Brown's DeLoreans he used with Marty and go back to this time, two weeks ago. The sun was shining instead of it being dreary and drizzly and best of all, Bella would be here. As we splash through a puddle, I grimace. Definitely much better than this.
Having Bella in Seattle the last time I was here, watching me play and then getting to hang out with our friends, was fucking awesome. I had two really good games. We played the the number two and three teams in our club division so I knew beforehand they'd be tough games. I scored in both of them, which is always a plus, and on top of that, we won, which was just the cherry on top. It was a fantastic weekend. We went to dinner, hung out in the hotel with some of my teammates, and we even managed to spend some time alone while we took a walk around the block.
Bella had a lot of fun with Rose and Alice, too. They did whatever girly things girls do Saturday night in their hotel room and then they went shopping and had dinner on Sunday after our game before heading back to Forks. I have to admit, it was pretty great to have her in the stands watching and cheering. Jasper said it was the best game I'd had in a really long time, a sentiment echoed by the coach and the rest of my teammates. Of course, once the idiots got one look at Bella in her tight as hell jeans and even tighter t-shirt, I was ready to kick some ass. It didn't help any that her ass looked spectacular as always and she'd worn her hair up, which she knows drives me fucking crazy. It only makes it easier to see how gorgeous she is. After hearing too many junior high comments said with the sole purpose of egging me on, I flipped them all off then proceeded to kiss the shit out of my girl in front of any- and everyone.
It was hot.
Really fucking hot.
And it shut them all up in a hurry, just like I'd intended. A little assholish on my part, I suppose, but honestly, I can't keep my hands off her these days. Ever since her birthday, it's like I can't get enough of her. I mean, of course before I was always touching her or rubbing against her like a damned kitten begging to be petted, but now, holy shit, there's this constant stream of all-out fire and want that races through me whenever she's around. Kissing and making out, even if we've progressed to underneath all of the clothes for both of us, is hot and all, but I'm going out of my mind with how much I want to make love to her.
It's pretty much all I think about lately, but now, very little can push its way through the constant haze of wanting to have sex with her. And now we have a problem, because I have a hard-on and I'm about to have to get out of the car. The day's off to a spectacular start.
As I wiggle in my seat and put on my rain gear, I can only hope it's not an omen of things to come.
By the time Sunday rolls around and I'm changing into yet another dry pair of socks for the ride home, I'm grouchy as hell. I feel like I played like shit every single minute I was in, which was all but a handful, and all I want to do is crawl into my bed and sleep the rest of the day away.
It's obviously just not my weekend when Coach says, "Edward, I need to talk to you for a minute."
My stomach jumps to the middle of my throat and I try to prepare myself to get reamed out, and probably benched for the next game. Twenty long, heart-stopping and really unexpected minutes later, and we're in the car and headed for Forks.
I haven't said a word since we hit the highway, too lost in my own head to even attempt conversation. I tap my phone against my mouth and sigh … for about the twenty-third time since we left Seattle not even an hour ago. I'm so tired and really fucking sore and normally I'd be asleep before we pass the first town outside of Seattle, but right now my brain's going a hundred miles a minute and I feel like I've just had about six Red Bulls. Jesus.
Another glance at my phone. No message … damn it. I sent Bella a text as soon as I got done talking to Coach, just because I needed to, I don't know, feel close to her I guess. Not that I don't always, but there are times, just hearing her voice is all I want. A text isn't the same as her calling, but it's a decent enough substitute until I get home and can actually talk to her.
Closing my eyes, I clench my jaw, fighting back the urge to throw a temper tantrum like a little kid in the store whose mommy tells him he can't have the shiny toy hanging there in the checkout aisle, the one that's put there only to drive mothers crazy. I know I shouldn't be pissed that she hasn't called back, or even sent a text, but fuck, I need her. I kind of hate that it makes me feel a bit like a pussy to need her so much, but damn it, I do. She's my person, my one. The one who's just mine and mine alone. My go-to, my sounding board, my best friend.
I glance at my phone one last time then dump the stupid thing into the cup holder beside me when the screen's still black.
"You wanna tell me what Coach told you that's got you acting like you have ants in your pants … and they're making a meal out of your butt?"
I snort and choke on the "what the fuck?" that's on the tip of my tongue. Dad grins and I can't help but chuckle at him. The man's got a way of defusing any situation, that's for sure.
"Come on," he urges, his voice now in full on Dad-mode, all concerned and soothing, inviting me to spill my guts. "We have a few hours until we'll be home. Talk to your old man; what's going on?"
I turn my head and stare out the window for a few moments. I know Dad will let me have the time without pushing, it's what he does, so I let my mind go where it wants. It's only mid-afternoon but it feels much later, probably due to the fact it's still overcast. The rain's stopped for the time being, but the air is still heavy, thick. The bark of the trees as we drive past them almost black, the school bus yellow of the lane stripes even more stark against dark charcoal of the asphalt, the green of the leaves and grass deeper, richer due to the heavy rain from last night.
Everything's always so wet, and though it's all I've known, and it's home, I want to know what it's like to wear shorts and flip-flops in December, and not worry about freezing my balls off. I want to eat ice cream for dinner and pizza for breakfast. I want to see new things and meet new people. I want to go someplace new, even if the thought makes me want to hurl.
"Enough stewing, spill it," Dad says, interrupting my reverie.
"Ah, hell, Dad," I chuckle, then blurt, "there was a scout from the Seattle Sounders at the games this weekend. Coach told me he didn't want me to freak out so he didn't tell me beforehand."
"I know."
Ummm … excuse me?
"What?" I splutter. "What do you mean you know? Why didn't you say anything? Damn, Dad. If I would have known … shit." I groan, replaying every shot, every pass in fast forward. Fantastic. "You know I missed that open goal in the morning game yesterday. In the afternoon game I played like shit; my passes were off, I couldn't ever get open, and then today I had that horrible free kick in the second half. I didn't even get the ball on frame. What scout wants to see that? God, I sucked." I slouch down in my seat, sick at the thought of fucking everything up so horribly.
I huff and sigh for about three minutes before Dad's had enough. "Okay, stop. And you wonder why no one told you? Edward, so you made a few mistakes, it's not the end of the world. If I recall correctly, in that game yesterday morning, you followed up the miss with a beautiful shot from about twenty yards away on the very next possession and that so-called horrible free kick wound up off the head of your teammate and in the back of the net. So what exactly do you have to be so upset about?"
Instead of answering, I turn my head, pouting, and watch the scenery go by in a blur, which does nothing but prove his point. Fuck.
Totally wallowing, I mumble, "Maybe I'm not ready for all this."
My stomach twists at the thought, even the slightest chance that I'm right makes me cold all over.
"You are." His words are instant and full of pride and love and they make me sit up taller, straighter. He glances at me for only a second or two, but it's all I need to see how much he believes in me. "Edward, you're only eighteen; you're not expected to have all the answers yet. And contrary to what you believe, you're allowed to make mistakes, too. We all make them, even me." He shoots me the smirk that I know I've inherited from him, the one that's gotten me out of more trouble than I deserve. "You can't honestly be that surprised that there are scouts following you, can you? You're my son, so I'm allowed to be biased, but all that aside, even I know you're the best player your age in the region. Hell, you're in the top five in the country. I follow the rankings just like you do, so come on, you had to know this was going to happen sooner or later."
He waits for me to answer. "Yeah, I did. It's just I try not to think about it."
"Which is why Coach and I didn't tell you about this weekend. You know I love to watch you play, but seriously, spending the weekend in the rain is not my idea of fun. However, there was no chance in hell of me not being here for you, even if you didn't know why." There's a few minutes when the only sound is the slapping of the tires against the road. It's not uncomfortable, though honestly, prolonged silence never is with my dad. "Your mom and I are so proud of you, Edward. I don't think we tell you that often enough."
I swallow past the surge of emotion and rasp a rough, "You do."
"Yeah?" he questions, smiling wider when I nod. "I'm glad to hear it. It's not just because of the soccer either, especially since we both know your skill has to be from some mutated gene or something because God knows you didn't get your athletic ability from anyone on either side of the family. The Cullens and the Platts have to be the most uncoordinated lot in history." The mood is lightened when we both laugh at his very true statement. Dad may be able to wield a scalpel with perfect precision but he's a lost cause when it comes to anything with a ball and a hand or a foot. Mom's no better. She might out-cook Paula Deen in the kitchen and her organizing skills are well-known, but there is definitely a reason why she's always the last one picked when the whole family gets together for the bi-annual Cullen reunion. The time she nearly took off Grandpa Cullen's head with a wiffle bat is legendary.
"I know I've said this before, but it bears repeating. You are a tremendous athlete, but beyond that, you're a genuinely remarkable person. I know sometimes it must feel overwhelming to have such huge decisions looming over your head, but you've handled the pressure better than most would be able to if they were in your shoes. I know it's not always easy to know the right path, but I have all the faith in the world you'll choose the right one for you."
"It's just hard sometimes, you know? I've wanted to play soccer for as long as I can remember, and I know it's what I'm meant to do, but there are other things I want, too."
"Like what?"
With no hesitation, I answer, "I want to be with Bella. I know you and Mom probably think I'm too young or whatever, but I know she's the only person I'll ever want to be with. I want to still be able to play music. It's important to me, and it's just as big a part of me as soccer. I want to travel and see and do things, even if it means leaving you and Mom and my friends and Forks. I don't know, Dad, I just want a lot I guess."
He's silent again but his posture's relaxed with his hand draped over the steering wheel and his other elbow on the console between us. "It's not a lot, son, not at all. And to set the record straight," he says and then clears his throat. Now he looks a little more tense, like what he's about to say might not go over so well. "Your mother and I don't think you're too young to know that Bella is the one for you. Love is love. It doesn't matter how old you are."
I take a deep breath at that. "But," he begins and instantly I'm wary again, "that doesn't mean we don't worry." He holds his hand up when I open my mouth to argue with him, and gives me the dad look that makes me snap it closed. I cross my arms and clench my jaw, and he chuckles. "Good Lord, you're so much like me sometimes it's uncanny. I reacted the same way when my parents said those exact words to me. Ah hell," he groans, "I can't believe I sound just like my dad. I always swore I'd never do that." He waves away the slight move off topic before he glances at me again. "Anyway, as I was saying, we do worry, but it's only because we want what's best for both of you."
"She's what's best for me," I answer stubbornly.
"Yeah, she is," he agrees. "She's a very special girl, Edward, and your mom and I are so happy you've found each other. I'm not surprised to hear you say you want to be with her, I didn't expect anything less, but I just want you to realize that wherever you go, if she follows you like it seems you both want," he pauses and waits for me to nod yes, "that you know she needs her own space and time to find her way as well."
His words strike me in an instant, slamming right into my heart.
"I'm such a selfish asshole." I groan, hating myself just a little bit for assuming that Bella will go wherever I go just because I want her to.
"You're not selfish; you're a guy madly in love with a beautiful girl that you want to be with all the time. It's exciting to think about, isn't it, going off together, finding your way as a couple, learning how to live together? I get it, Edward, believe me I do. When your mom and I first started dating, well … I'm sure you get the picture." He coughs a little uncomfortably and the tips of his ears turn red.
"What I'm trying to say is, talk to Bella. Find out what she wants to do with her life. She's just now starting to think about a future outside of the whole situation with her mom, so she's got options she never took the time to believe she had. I have no doubt that's mostly due to you. You've given her an extraordinary gift, son, by pushing her to see past the here and now and think about herself. I just want you," he emphasizes, "to understand that it's important for both of you to allow her to spread her wings and find her own way apart from just being your girlfriend."
He's right. He's so, so right. But still … "You don't think it's wrong of me to want her to come with me, wherever I go, do you? I don't want to be without her."
"No, it's not wrong and it's not selfish to want to be together, as long as you remember that if she decides to follow you, that she's putting a tremendous amount of faith in you. Always be worthy of it, Edward, because if you lose trust in each other, no amount of love can overcome that."
I swallow thickly, and my stomach falls. "Jesus Christ, Dad, I'd never cheat on Bella!" I'm pissed as hell he'd even think such a thing.
He cringes and looks at me apologetically. "I know and that's not what I mean at all. I'm sorry if I gave you that impression. What I mean is, no matter where you decide to go, you'll be on your own in someplace new. You'll have to travel for soccer and she won't always be able to go with you. Just …" he blows out a breath, "always remember that you love and respect each other. You're both going to meet new people, make new friends, and you might not always get along with them. It's only natural to be a bit … territorial." He smirks. "You're a Cullen; it's inevitable that the green-eyed monster will raise its head more than a few times. Believe me, I know, but try to remember to think before you act, trust me, it'll save your ass from sleeping on the couch."
I groan and bang my head against the seat, already worked up and ready to take some fucker out for something that hasn't even happened yet. "That's just great. Thanks a lot, Dad."
This time his laugh is gleeful. "Edward, son, I know you're not stupid and I do have eyes. Bella is beautiful; you're not the only one that will think so. And I have known you for all your life. You're going to be on the couch more than a few times, I guarantee it."
"Yeah, yeah." I grin at him, because hell yes I will, but as long as it's the couch in our house, I can live with that. "Thanks, Dad," I tell him after a few minutes. "I needed to hear all that. It helped."
"Good, guess I have my uses every now and then."
The rest of the ride home speeds by. I nap a little, stare out the window … listening to Dad gossip about the goings-on at the hospital like he's one of the nurses. I swear sometimes he makes Forks General sound like it's one step away from being home of the next Grey's Anatomy, after all Forks is pretty close to Seattle. I just want to be home.
I want to be close to Bella.
Mom hugs and kisses me like she hasn't seen me in months instead of just yesterday morning when we walk in and my mouth waters when I smell dinner. Roast chicken if I'm not mistaken, hopefully with mashed potatoes and green beans, too. Comfort food. I hug Mom back, holding onto her longer than she's used to.
"What's that all about?" she asks as she steps back, eyes narrowed.
"Nothing." I shrug and hitch my bag on my shoulder, a little embarrassed.
She's Mom, so of course it's okay to hug her, but after the talk with Dad and missing Bella, I feel a little out of sorts, and hugs from my mom always make me feel better. I don't tell her that often enough, and now, it feels like time is running out. She'll always be Mom so it's not like once I graduate, she'll never hug me again, but it won't be the same.
Nothing will.
And cue the knots in my stomach and the sour taste in my mouth.
"I'm going to go shower and change. I'll be down for dinner."
Mom gives me the look, the one that says we'll talk soon and Dad slaps me on the back as we go our separate ways. I toss my bag on the floor when I walk in my room, kick off my shoes, then flop on my bed. Staring at the ceiling, I try to push all thoughts about the future to the back of my mind. I'm tired of thinking about it all. I lie there for I don't even know how long, just letting my mind wander, so of course Bella's front and center. I don't think anything specific, just flashes of things. Her laughing, then us together, walking and holding hands. I'm not sure where we are, maybe a college campus someplace. There are lots of people around us, mostly our age, and everyone's in shorts and t-shirts. A flash of a classroom, then a soccer stadium. A house. I know it's ours because I see a piano and a drum set, my soccer cleats, her cookie cutters drying in a rack beside the kitchen sink … an unmade king-sized bed in the center of a bedroom with pictures of the Phoenix desert hanging alongside pictures of our families and friends.
Our clothes are strewn on the floor. They look like they were taken off in a hurry, my shoe's still tangled in the bottom of the leg of my jeans, her panties still inside hers, something that looks tantalizingly skimpy and silky, and the thought makes my cock twitch.
My body stirs, my heart races, and my soul calms.
I might not know what the future holds for me or what the right path is going to wind up being, but seeing our future laid out so vividly fills me with a sense of peace I haven't felt in a really long time. Knowing that no matter what happens after graduation, a year from now, or five years from now, Bella is with me makes the unknown not so fucking terrifying.
I roll over and crawl on top of the bed. Nearly busting my ass, I stretch and grab my backpack off the floor, pulling out her notebook and a pen. Once I get situated, I write her a quick letter. It's time to trade again and though I could send a text or an email, I write the words instead.
Hey baby,
Just got home a few minutes ago and now I'm getting ready to take a shower and eat dinner. I just wanted to tell you … I love you. There are so many things I'm not sure of these days, but the one thing I know with all my fucking heart is well … you are my heart.
We're always going to be together, Bella, and we're going to be insanely happy.
Just thought you should know that … gotta go, Mom made biscuits from scratch and I gotta get down there before Dad eats them all.
Talk to you later,
Edward
BTW … our house is gonna rock and your underwear looks sexy as fuck laying on the ground right next to my boxers. Just saying
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
The first few days of the week fly by. I have a huge project due in World History, we're reading A Tale of Two Cities in English - I hate Charles Dickens - and in Pre-Calc we just started learning about limits which are pretty much kicking my ass. School is sucking big donkey balls right now and I'm ready for the weekend and it's only Thursday morning. Fuck. I grab my backpack and scan the parking lot for Bella's car like I do every morning we don't ride together, frowning when I don't see it. A glance at my watch and it's no wonder. It's only 7:45. There's no way Bella is going to be here this early, not even for me. With a shake of my head, because, damn, I really want to see her before school starts, I make my way to the office to meet with Mr. Banner. The student council is going to be heading up a food drive for Thanksgiving and I need to go over some details before the kick-off next week.
Wow.
I'm stunned for a moment when I realize that the holidays are right around the corner. Time is just flying by. I ignore the sudden twist in my stomach and walk into the office.
"All right then, Mr. Cullen. Starting Monday, you and your fellow officers can add the information about the food drive to the morning announcements. Just coordinate with Mrs. Turner who is going to be responsible for which day, and then get on to class. Can't have you being late, can we?"
I chuckle, thinking I wouldn't mind missing some of Mr. Knight's lecture on supply and demand. Having Econ first period is like the worst thing ever, the most ridiculously boring subject taught by the most mind-numbingly dull teacher. Mr. Knight makes that dude in Ferris Bueller, the one that says his name over and over in that monotone voice, seem like Will Ferrell.
As we walk out of his office, Mr. Banner pats me on the shoulder. "Soccer going okay for you? Mrs. Harris tells me there have been quite a number of requests for your transcripts from colleges all over the country. I don't know that Forks High has ever had an athlete so heavily recruited before. We're all really proud of you, Edward."
His words stop me in my tracks. My skin prickles and instantly my shirt sticks to my back. It takes all I have to resist lifting my arm to make sure I don't have pit stains I'm sweating so badly. Just fucking great. It seems like I can't go more than a few minutes before something reminds me of everything I want to just forget about. The praise is great and if I didn't have so much on my mind these days it'd make me feel great, too. I know it would. I love playing for Forks High and deep down I'm really proud of what I've been able to do here, for me as well as for the school. It's humbling to be recognized for it though and the recognition makes me a little uncomfortable.
I give him a half-hearted smile and stammer out a mumbled, "Thanks," before hurrying toward Econ.
Emmett lifts his chin as I slip into my seat right as the bell rings. He watches me all through class, which of course isn't helping my mood at all. I don't even know what's bothering me so much. It's not like I haven't always known that I have to decide where to go to college, but I didn't think it would be this hard. So many choices, so many different paths, and I don't have any idea which way to go. The talk with Coach over the weekend has really just put a big huge spotlight on the issue and it's all I've been able to think about since then.
"You okay, man?" Emmett asks once class is over.
I sigh and run a hand through my hair, anxious to find Bella. I nod at him though as we follow the flow and spill out into the hallway. "I'm fine, just a lot on my mind is all. No big deal."
The hall's crowded as we walk toward our next class. All the jostling and bumping, coupled with the steady hum of the chatter around me just seems to amplify the sense of things spinning out of control, causing it to grow and grow and grow, until I feel like my head's about to explode. I need some space. I need some time to think. I need Bella.
"Watch it," I snarl when someone's elbow lands in the center of my back. Emmett places his massive bulk between me and the little shit, chuckling as the kid scampers off like a frightened rabbit.
"Dude." He grins when he turns to look at me. "That poor kid about crapped his pants. What in the hell is going on with you?" he asks, turning serious in an instant. "You look like you're about to lose it. What gives? It's not like you to be so uptight."
As much as I'm dying to see Bella, I can't blow off Emmett, nor do I particularly want to. We've been friends way too long for me to do that to him. "It's a bunch of things, Em. Coach Bradley talked to me on Sunday after the game and told me that the team's going to be travelling over the Christmas holidays, so I'm going to be gone over New Years which really sucks because it's the first one I'd get to spend with Bella, you know? He also said he's gotten some phone calls asking for film of me from a lot of colleges and a scout was there this weekend from the Sounders, which is just weird as hell. I mean it's cool and it's what I've always wanted, but then Mr. Banner mentioned my transcripts getting requested and how the whole school is proud of me and, man, that's awesome and all, but it's scary, too, which I know makes me sound like a fucking pussy, but whatever."
My chest's tight, I try to breathe. It's hard, but I do, and then I say, "I just want to play. I want to be with Bella, and I have no fucking idea what to do or where to go, or even if she's going to come with me. We've talked about her going wherever I go, and she says she wants to leave Forks, no matter what, and no matter what's going on with her mom, but still, what if when the time comes she can't go because her mom's still like she is?" And the words are just spewing and I can't stop them. I don't even try. I know it's almost time for class to start but Emmett doesn't move, doesn't even indicate he gives one shit that we might be late, so I keep going, needing to get this out. "What kind of asshole does that make me that I want Bella with me anyway, even if nothing has changed for her mom? It's going to be weird enough without you and Jas, but going without Bella … man … I can't even … I don't know if I …" By the time I spit out the last word, I swear I'm having a fucking heart attack.
God, it would so suck to die right here in the hallway of Forks High.
"Okay, whoa, Ed. You gotta chill the fuck out." Emmett coughs, clearly freaked out by my outburst.
He's not the only one.
The hall's practically empty, just a few stragglers left hurrying to class but still, neither of us move.
"First of all," Emmett begins, taking an awkward breath as he shifts from foot to foot, before leaning back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and eyes as honest and genuine as I've ever seen them. "Seriously, take a deep breath and calm down. How the fuck am I supposed to see you on TV or get to watch you from some owner's box while I eat chicken wings and drink beer if you stroke out on me?"
He waggles his eyebrow and it makes me laugh, just like he wanted me to and just like I needed. Damn he's good.
"Second, I get it. You have a lot of shit to think about, but you can't let it make you crazy. You've wanted this for as long as I've known you, Edward, and it's all right there at the tips of your fingers. The soccer, the girl, the life, all of it, just waiting for you to reach out and grab it. So do it. What do you want? Do you want to play right out of high school, or do you want to go to college, make the National Team, travel the world, and then come back to us lowly normal people?"
I open my mouth to contradict the last comment but he holds his hand up, and says, "No."
The tone of his voice makes me snap my mouth shut and wait for him to go on. "Look, you have a gift, Edward, you do. I don't do this with you; this is Jasper's thing, when he goes all Mr. Zen on our asses, but he's not here, I am, so just listen to me. You've worked your whole life to get to this moment, so do your thing, you know? You deserve it. Sure, it might freak you the fuck out, I get that. I mean this is Forks we're talking about, so it's not like any of us are all that used to living on our own. We all know that Newton peed his pants in second grade when Mrs. Oliver wouldn't let him go to the bathroom in the middle of our spelling test and that Lauren Mallory punched Yorkie in the nuts in fifth grade when he tried to look up her skirt during the Christmas program."
"Oh, hell." I can't help but laugh remembering the squeal Eric let loose right in the middle of Principal White's greeting to the crowd before we all started singing Joy to the World wearing cheesy ass Santa hats and dressed in red and green.
"Right?" Emmett laughs along with me and then we both grimace. "He's lucky Lauren didn't ruin him for life. That girl knows how to pack a punch, but Yorkie's dick is so small, it's a wonder she hit it at all."
He pushes off the wall but still doesn't move to go to class. By this point, we're already late, so I wait for him to finish saying the rest of what's on his mind … what's obviously been on his mind for a while. Emmett's right, he and I don't usually talk this way. That's not to say that we haven't had our moments where the conversations get pretty fucking deep, but they don't happen all that often. I've learned over the years, as we've gotten older and somewhat more mature - we are still only eighteen so the maturity only goes so far, especially for him - that when he talks like this, to always listen. Jasper might have the market cornered on knowing things and being able to tell when something's wrong or I need to talk, but Emmett's insight is freakishly right on point and he always manages to impress me with how clearly he can get to the heart of things … like right now.
"It's gotta be scary as shit thinking about going off on your own, but you'll have Bella, and that's really all you need. She's your one, yeah, just like Rosie's mine and Ali is Jasper's. I love you guys, you're my bros and I love Bella and Ali like sisters, but I can live without you guys if I have to. What I can't live without is Rose because with her, I can do whatever the fuck I want to. Just like you can go off and do your thing, make us all proud … and you will." He starts walking and snorts. "Dude, the girl looks at you like you walk on water, so, trust me, she's going wherever you go, no matter what's going on at home. She needs to, she'll suffocate if she doesn't, and I'm damn sure not going to sit around and let that happen anyway, so you just make your plans and everything will fall into place."
"Emmett," I whisper hoarsely around the huge lump in my throat.
He shrugs and waves a hand in the air. "Yeah, yeah, you didn't know I had it in me, did ya? Gotta say, I'm kinda impressed with myself for saying all that. Who needs Jasper, huh?"
We laugh and I feel a million times better. "Really, Em, thanks," I tell him sincerely.
"One last moment then my quota for like the fucking year is done because, man this emotional shit wears me the fuck out. You're my best friend, Edward, so don't thank me. This is what we do. You'd do the same for Jasper and he'd do the same for me. We're like a fucking tripod or whatever other lame metaphor you wanna use, but it's the truth. Wherever you go, whatever you do, Jas and I will always have your back. I love ya, even when you act like a teeny bopper getting all bent out of shape over those One Dimension dudes."
"Direction, you jackass." I snicker then shake my head at the fact I actually know that. What the hell?
"Well, whatever, you know what I mean … and I won't even ask how you know that. But regardless, I meant what I said, though if you repeat it, I'll have to retaliate by telling everyone, especially Bella, that you used to make me take your Superman Underoos home with me after a game so your mom wouldn't wash them when we were little. I still can't believe you talked me into that shit, even if they were your lucky pair and we won every game you wore them in." He slaps my back, hard, when I stare at him with my jaw on the floor. "And don't think I won't do it either. I have a rep to protect and all that jazz."
We're at the end of the hallway. I have to go right to Spanish and he needs to go left to Culinary Skills. With the way he eats, he definitely needs to know how to feed himself.
I ask, "What are you going to say to Ms. Sanderson so you don't get in trouble?" We are almost twenty minutes late after all.
He rolls his eyes. "Edward, my man, all I have to do is flash Ms. S my dimples and she's putty in my hands. She wants me, didn't ya know? Everyone wants a piece of this." How he can say those words with a straight face is totally beyond me. "What are you going to do about Spanish?"
I scoff. "Pffft, it's Señora Guzman, I don't have to do anything but walk in and tell her lo siento, maybe throw in a pout, and I'm golden."
"We're so totally awesome, dudes only wish they could bring it like we do. You okay now?" he asks walking backward down the hall.
"Yep, see you at lunch," I answer back before turning and hurrying down the hall.
Getting past Señora Guzman is just as easy as I told Em it would be. I reach out and let my fingers dust over Bella's shoulder as I pass her on my way to my seat, Emmett's words still front and center in my mind. Just seeing her, touching her, settles the uneasy thoughts that are still swirling and churning. In a flash, I drop my backpack on the ground beside my desk, take out my Spanish book and notebook for class, and catch up with the lecture.
I can tell Bella's wondering why I was late. She keeps fidgeting in her seat and every time Señora Guzman turns toward the board, she glances back over her shoulder at me.
Finally, worried she's going to give herself whiplash, I lean forward and whisper in her ear. "Everything's fine. We'll talk about it later, okay?"
She sighs when my warm breath fans over her ear and though I'm sure she's relieved to hear nothing is wrong, I can't help but think she's just a little, or maybe a lot, affected by my lips being so close to her skin. I really fucking hope she is. Deciding to test my theory, I lean in closer and murmur, "Cuando la clase terminó, voy a darte un beso tan largo y tan bueno, verás las estrellas."
She does this little whimper groan thing in the back of her throat and I chuckle low and quite proud of myself … adding a silent fist pump when I see her squirm and her arm break out in goosebumps.
"Edward," she warns, which is really just waving a big red flag in my face, but I have to sit back when Señora Guzman faces the class again.
For the rest of the period I behave, mostly, but as usual, twirl her hair around my fingers as I conjugate the verbs of the day. Touching her, being this close to her, helps to soothe the frazzle from before, but then again, it wakes up the twisty turny thing in my stomach because I know in a few minutes I'll have my mouth on hers and her body against mine. The thought makes concentrating on Spanish pretty damn hard, a lot like a certain body part.
When the bell rings, I slide my things into my backpack, not even bothering to zip it closed, and then pull Bella behind me as I hurry out the door. The five minutes we get between classes isn't long, but I plan on using every second to kiss the shit out of my girl.
"Where were you? What's wrong?" she asks as I drag her toward the alcove off the senior hall.
A quick sweep and it's definitely my lucky day because no one is around. Without missing a step, I stop, push her against the wall, and then attack her mouth. Hands on either side of her head, our bodies lined up just so and it's exactly what I need."Fuck, you taste good. Spicy and cinnamony, my favorite."
My tongue dives into her open mouth, tangling with hers. I step forward and slip my thigh between her legs. She squeaks. I groan. It feels so good. She feels so good. All soft and warm, and smelling like heaven. She moves, arching her back in a way that makes my dick so hard it hurts.
"Oh, yeah, just like that." I groan when she does it again.
Her fingers comb through my hair and she tugs, hard, when I return the favor and swivel my hips against her pussy. We're back to the kissing again. I seriously could kiss her for hours.
"Okay, ahhh," Bella mumbles against my lips, "tell me what … oh, ohhhh." She sighs and lets her head fall backward when I suck on the skin behind her ear.
"Less talking, more kissing, baby. We don't have much longer," I tell her and dive back in for one more toe-curling, heart-stopping kiss. It has to last me through lunch … two long fucking hours from now.
One more shift of my hips, one more dip into her mouth and reluctantly I lift my mouth from hers. She looks a little dazed and confused. Pupils dilated, lips swollen, cheeks flushed pink. It's hot as hell. I love seeing her this way … like a whole lot.
I link our fingers together and rest my forehead against hers.
"I don't know if I should say I'm sorry for attacking you that way or not." I chuckle.
"Um … definitely not. Feel free to kiss me like that anytime the urge strikes. I promise I won't mind." She squeezes my hands and when I lift my forehead from hers I can see she's still wondering what's going on with me.
I open my mouth, fully intending to tell her not to worry, but instead I say, "I'm so glad you're my person."
"I'm glad I am, too," she responds immediately, understanding what I mean with no explanation whatsoever. She always gets me, even when I say ridiculous things totally out of context. It's as scary as it is cool. She twists her mouth and narrows her eyes, studying my face, while I want to rewind the prior thirty seconds and stop the word vomit from coming out in the first place, no matter how true the words are. "Tell me what's wrong?"
A glance at my watch, and I turn us toward the main hall. "We're going to be late if we don't hurry."
She huffs, annoyed. "Bella, we'll talk at lunch, I promise, but it's really not a big deal. I swear. I just got hung up talking to Emmett and that's why I was late."
A tug against my hand and I groan as I face her. I probably shouldn't have spent so much time kissing her, but damn, I needed it … though I really don't need to be late to another class today. Still, I stop like she wants me to. I can talk my way out of trouble with a teacher, not so much with Bella.
"I love you," she says softly and I sigh.
My girl is so fucking awesome.
I kiss the tip of her nose real quick then, "Love you, too. Now let's move it."
With only seconds to spare, I'm in my seat when the next class starts. Lunch is spent talking quietly with Bella, ignoring everyone but her, as I tell her about what Principal Banner said, how that made me feel, and then about my talk with Emmett. She listens to every word, and waits until I'm finished talking before having her turn. Of course she understands, she's Bella, and by the end of lunch, I feel a lot better. I know it won't be the only time I freak out, it's just who I am, but knowing that I have her to talk to and help me makes all the difference in the world.
She's my person … just like I'm hers … and I know that whatever happens, we'll always be together.
~~~~OOO~~~~~OOO~~~~~
The end of the next week and I'm rethinking this whole her person, my person thing because I seriously think I'm going to throw up.
Fucking hell.
"Are you ready?" she asks looking calm as can be and really fucking hot, too, in her short black dress. She's trying to kill me. She knows what seeing her legs does to me, and I really don't need a hard-on right now.
I gulp and nod slowly. "I'm so not ready, but it's too late to do anything about it now. Just … don't leave my side, okay? I don't want to fuck this up."
She giggles. "Relax. He's going to love you."
"God, I fucking hope so," I mumble as she drags me into the kitchen where none other than Phil Dwyer is standing, looking every bit as intimidating here as he does on the pitcher's mound.
"Phil, this is Edward." Bella squeezes my hand and I reach out with my other.
"Edward Cullen, sir. It's so nice to finally meet you. Bella's told me so much about you."
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
*what Edward tells Bella in Spanish class: "When class is over, I'm going to kiss you so long and so good, you'll see stars."
"lo siento" - I'm sorry
