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Edward never came back after he left Bella in New Moon. Bella went to college, married Jacob, had a daughter. When Bella's grandaughter and Edward find each other in Forks, can Edward overcome his memories and devote himself to a new love?
It's a tired old plot, but this is the first time I've ever written Twilight fanfiction, so please indulge me.
8. Chapter 8
Word Count 2397
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Edward knew something. I could see it in his face, in the careful, careful set of his jaw and the oh-so-blank look in his eyes. I thought about demanding he spill – tell me what’s wrong with me, damn you, how dare you withhold information, – but relationships, after all, are built on trust, and this seemed like as good a place as any to start. Plus, I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know – maybe if I ignore it it’ll go away.
So I shrugged, and let it go, and went to my next class distracted. I couldn’t stop remembering the dream. When it was happening, it all felt muted, distant, but now I could remember every aspect of the dream in vivid detail. The way the snow felt on my bare feet, the wind on my face, the perfect silence in my ears. When I let my mind drift, I could almost imagine I was still there. Oh, how I want to be there. That took me by surprise. The dream – trance, whatever – had been weird, freaky, creepy, and even scary. Looking back on it, it had also been wonderful and exhilarating and awesome, in the literal sense. It awed me.
“Miss Nye! Repeat what I just said!” A teacher’s voice brought me back to reality with a bump. I stared at him blankly, trying to remember what class I was in. My spiral lay on my desk, open to a completely blank page. I hadn’t written down a word of the lecture.
“As I thought,” Mr. Turner grunted. “Try to pay attention, will you? I’m not talking for my health.”
I blinked at him and nodded, my mind already elsewhere.
Whoa, Izz. Obsessive much? What’s your problem today?
I’m just a little…unsettled, okay? I’ll be fine tomorrow.
This is almost as bad as you were over Edward. Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be dreaming of him, not running through forests of the night?
Irrationally, I felt slightly guilty at that. Surely my vampire boyfriend ought to have monopoly on my daydreams? Then my thoughts caught up with themselves and started freaking out.
Let’s analyze that last sentence, Izz. For one, you referred to Edward as your ‘vampire boyfriend’, thus admitting that you truly believe he’s a vampire. Second, just the other night, you were almost unable to sleep for questioning the validity of his love for you, as opposed to his love for BellaII, something that no longer seems to bother you.
Er – I’ve moved on?
Please. I know you, remember? Knotty emotional and rational issues like that should have kept you occupied until spring break!
Excuse me, I do not have to justify my daydreams, thank you very much! I can daydream about whatever I damn well please with complete impunity!
I just want you to be aware that you’re giving daydream priority to what may or may not have been a dream about running through the forest in your pajamas. Isn’t Edward more important than that?
And the result of that little inner dialogue was that I spent the rest of the day in a conflicted, distracted haze. One part of my brain was thinking about Edward, vampires, Bella, and love, while another part was wrestling with the dream, trying to make sense not only of the dream itself, but the strange emotions it brought up in me…
Which left none for school. By the time I headed to volleyball practice, I was frustrated and harassed in addition to conflicted and distracted, and my head was starting to hurt. I stalked into the locker room and changed out in brooding silence, then slunk onto the court in what I was realizing was one of the worst tempers of my life. I was a time bomb of nuclear fury just waiting for someone to light a fuse.
But nobody did. The rest of the team, even the coach, were all very careful of me. Maybe they could see in my eyes that it was not a good day. So my inner rage just piled up and piled up, looking for something fall on and getting ever more frustrated when it failed to find it.
We were doing a practice game in the last half-hour of practice. I stood by the net, eyes glued to the ball, thinking murderous thoughts. The ball came down, and Alissa caught it with a perfect bump up to the front line. I could see what would happen before the setter’s fingers even touched the ball, could see the trajectory the ball would follow. A split second later, I was in the air, higher than I had ever gone, until I felt like the whole gym was spread out beneath me. The ball flew into my vision, and I slammed it with every available ounce of muscle and frustrated anger.
My feet hit the ground. The ball did the same thing at almost exactly the same time, and it exploded into a cloud of dust and canvas fragments. For a moment everyone stared mutely at the spot where what had previously been a functioning volleyball had made contact. A few girls coughed.
On the other side of the net, Lara gave a drawn-out wolf-whistle. “Work it, girl,” she said, and flashed me a grin.
I grinned back at her. Somehow, my spirits had been improved infinitely by destroying the volleyball.
“It was probably just old,” I said. “Weak stitching, or something.” I looked around. Coach was shaking her head at me.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m going to have you do that in games,” she said. “Frighten the opposing team into submission. Not to mention the refs.”
“I’m not sure it’s something I can do on command,” I said. Coach shook her head again. “Well, we’ve only got five minutes left,” she said. “Let’s call it a day.
I went bed that night content, but as soon as I turned off the light, turmoil descended. Edward, running, the forest, vampires, love, Bella, the volleyball, they swirled through my mind like the waters of a swollen river – rushing, dividing into separate currents, merging, splitting, merging again. My headache was back. What did I have to do to get any sleep?
And just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, the Call.
I recognized it now, as I hadn’t last night, but I was just as powerless to resist. Out of bed, through the window, onto the ground in one smooth motion. The heat. The running. The blissful feeling of thinking of nothing at all, mind wiped clean by the night sky and the falling snow. It was like returning to a simpler life form, one without all the difficulties of being human, one that can solve every problem simply by running forever.
But that night I went even farther into my trance, and even farther into something I did not understand... The running took over my entire consciousness, but sometimes it seemed I was running on four legs and sometimes two, and once I could have sworn I had a tail.
I returned home after I-don’t-know-how-long, but I did not climb into bed. Instead, I lay on the smooth, cool wood floor and stared at the motionless ceiling fan, listening to my blood rushing in my veins, listening to my pulse in my ears, counting the beats of my heart until I forgot to and fell asleep.
I awoke the next morning with my lips wrapped around a word. I had said the word in my dream, had said it so recently I could still almost remember it. What was it? The word was hanging annoyingly at the back of my brain, where I could neither remember it nor forget it. It bothered me so much I considered skipping school and going back to sleep to get my mind off it, but…I wanted to see Edward. Yesterday hadn’t gone the way I’d planned for our first official boyfriend/girlfriend/yes-I-know-you’re-a-vampire-and-I’m-okay-with-it day of school. There was something I’d meant to do that the dream had completely driven out of my mind. I just had to find some way to get him alone…
Luck was with me. Edward pulled up outside my house two seconds after I stepped outside the front door. I hesitated a minute – I didn’t want to give him the idea that he could make plans for me – but it fit in so nicely with my own plans and he gave me such a pleading look that I decided to hell with it and climbed in the passenger seat of his black Lex2000.
“This means you have to take me home to,” I warned him, laughing a little. He sent me a hurt look.
“Must I?” he asked. The look he gave me said: Can’t I just keep you forever? I shivered a little, and not from the cold. I’d never had someone want me so much. I’d never wanted anyone so much.
With that thought in mind, I crossed my legs, tipped my head to the right just a little, and leaned forward slightly so I could put my hand over his on the armrest between us. Basically, I behaved in every way that meant kiss me, without actually saying it. He hesitated for a second, then leaned forward and did so.
It was like no kiss I’d ever received before. For one, his lips were like marble, impossibly cold and smooth, except marble shouldn’t have given me goose bumps and sent a thrill shivering down my spine, and marble definitely shouldn’t have tasted so sweet, so incredibly sweet.
I don’t know how long it was. It seemed like eternity, but was probably more like a few seconds before he broke away.
“Oh god, Izzie,” he breathed. “Don’t do that to me. You smell so good.”
“What, my blood?”
“Yes. How can anyone smell that good?”
“I always thought all blood smelled the same.”
“No,” he sent me a longing glance. “You’re torture,” he said.
“Well, now I’m relaxed,” I joked. He sent me sly smile that made my much-discussed blood fizz in my veins.
“In more ways than one,” he added, grinning.
I sat back in my seat and he pulled out of the drive, a little quickly for my peace of mind. “So I heard you demolished a volleyball in practice yesterday,” he said. How did hear that so quickly?
“Gossip travels fast,” I said.
“It helps if you can read their minds.”
“Yeah, I guess it would. Listen, have you ever heard of something called a speed limit?”
“Yes, but they’re only for mortals.”
“Do the cops know this?”
“They’ve never had a chance to find out. Look, just trust me. Speed is a vampire thing. I’ll take you running sometime.”
Running. For just a minute, last night flashed through my memory. I shook it off and said quickly “Not so sure about that,” hoping he hadn’t noticed my distraction.
He turned and stared into my eyes. That should have made me really nervous, since he was doing seventy and should have been concentrating on the road, but I was too caught up with staring back at him to be anxious.
“What’s your favorite color?” he asked suddenly.
“It depends,” I said dreamily. “What’s yours?”
He reached out and touched my hair, so lightly I barely felt it. “Brown,” he said. “Favorite flower?”
“Roses. I’m a traditionalist. Favorite band?”
“Chrysolite. Why are you asking all these questions?”
“Because I barely know you, really,” he said. “I feel like I’ve known you forever, but I barely know you.”
“I’m sure you know a lot about me. I’m a very open person.”
“No you’re not,” he corrected, chuckling. “You’re a very secretive person, really. You’ve been here a month, and all I know about you is you moved here from Dallas and you’re incredibly wonderful. And you don’t like the cold.”
“When did I tell you I didn’t like the cold?”
“The very first day I met you. And even if you hadn’t told me, no one who wears two sweaters and a jacket to school when it’s only in the forties is a fan of cold weather.”
“Only in the forties? That’s practically freezing. And I’m not wearing something like that today. I’m not even wearing layers.”
“No.” his face stiffened, and he looked troubled. I nearly asked him to tell me what was wrong, but I bit my lip at the last second. I was sure his worry had something to do with my dreams (if they were dreams), and for some reason I wanted to solve that myself.
I’d been trying to forget about Izzie’s symptoms, but now they come crashing down around my shoulders. I wonder how long it would be before she transformed for the first time. Days? Weeks? After it happens, will she hate me? Suddenly, another horrible thought. If Izzie’s changing, the teenagers at La Push will soon be changing too. Then she will join their pack, and forget me. I try to push the thought away, but it hovers in the front of my mind, taunting me.
You will never be happy. You ruin the lives of those who love you. If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t be turning into a werewolf. What kind of monster are you, that spreads your monstrousness to those around you, that hurts the one you love?
There is nothing I can say to the voice. It is all true. But I love her.
This is all your fault…
As if merely thinking about werewolves brings them to me, I catch a faint whiff of wolf-smell as I turn my head to focus on the road, an unpleasant note in Izzie’s delicious scent. Something inside me breaks. How long can it last? How long before I can’t even stand to be around her. I’m inwardly thankful I kissed this morning, because maybe tomorrow I wouldn’t have been able to.