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Bittersweet Hello

Summary:
Bella and Edward in Forks, it's the same time period with the same people, but this time their roles are switched


Notes:
Edward Mason is a young 17 year old boy who has just moved to Forks with his mother in search of the renowned blood specialist, Dr. Cullen. His mother is sick with an unheard of blood disease and Dr. Cullen is their last hope.
Bella Cullen is a 107 year old vampire with a body frozen in time at age 17. She alone in her family has not found love. She surrounds herself with books, and awaits the day her prince comes to sweep her of her feet.


8. Chapter 8; Sunshine

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 2001   Review this Chapter

(Edward’s POV)

The day went by in a crawl of boredom. I’d been there only two days, and already I was feigning interest in class…well in the subject. In two classes I had no problem keeping interest in one thing…

At the end of the day, she managed to flit out of sight and I only just caught her sliding into the black Jetta. Someone nudged my shoulder as I stood in the rain, watching the car disappear down the highway.

“Hey!” It was Katie. “What’re you doing this weekend?” I raised my eyebrow, if I hadn’t been a prodigy at reading faces, I’d’ve sworn she was asking me on a date, but Katie wasn’t like that.

“Ah, I’ll probably get up…eat….wallow in self-pity…go to bed…I’m pretty much booked.” I smiled an easy smile.

“Ooooh, yeah…sounds busy…well…why not wallow in your self-pity next to my awesomeness? Some of it is sure to seep into your pity bubble!”

“Ha, depends….where is your awesomeness going to be?”

“The beach down on the reservation.” I vaguely remember Jessica talking to me about that, but the speed of her talking combined with the fluttering of her lashes was giving me motion-sickness, so I concentrated on breathing.

“I…Can I think it over? I’m not sure if I want to go to a weird place with weird people…And you’ll be there…and you’re just crazy.” She shoved me to the side, and I faked pain.
“Oh, ouch! Ouch…I think you broke my arm!” I said in a robot’s voice.

“Ha, what a wimp! I bet I could snap your arm!”

“Oh no no no! You forget!” I held my arms up, ‘flexing’ my biceps. “I’m a man of marble! You can’t break me!”

“Chyeah, whatever,” she said, waving a hand in the air, and pulling her hood further forward. “Now, not that this conversation in the rain is not enjoyable, but I’d prefer not to melt.” She waved before sprinting off towards a mud splattered blue car.

I made my way to my car as well. I put the key in the ignition and started it up. I didn’t notice it at first, but as I backed out of the spot, something was wrong. There was a grinding sound coming from under the hood, and for a second I thought the car might blow up.

I decided to take it to the mechanic’s right away. I’d prefer to keep my limbs. Plus… I didn’t want to tell Katie that I wasn’t marble. I snorted at that thought and took a turn onto “Main Street”. There were so few shops on this street I could count them all on my fingers. I didn’t even have to take my shoes off.

On the corner was a run down garage with a rusty sign propped up in the window saying, “mechanic on duty” with chipped red paint. I pulled into the driveway and cut the engine, which wasn’t purring anymore…it was more along the lines of growling.

A young boy around the age of 15 or 16 came walking out, toting an oil covered rag and stowing it in his back pocket.

“Hey, how can I help you?” he asked, giving me a polite smile. His skin was tan and his hair long and black.

“I-umm…Are you in charge?” I asked, unsure of whether I wanted a gangly boy -- probably younger than me-- to work on my car.

“Yeah, basically. I’m sorta’ still the trainee, but they just call me that so I don’t make Old Man Jim feel bad.” He winked and tossed his head in the direction of the garage. I squinted into the darkness, noticing a over-weight old man, leaning back against a wall, snoring heavily.

“Ooooh, that wasn’t an engine running…” I laughed sarcastically and he joined with me. I squinted at his name which was embroidered on his suit.

“Okay, John, could you check out my car? It’s making a weird noise, and I don’t want to die.” He made a weird face.

“John??” He looked down at the name on his jumpsuit. “Oooh, no, my name’s Jacob. They don’t have a suit for me…this is just a sample pair that we got from the company.” Oops, how embarrassing. “But yeah, I could take a look at it, Edward.” I gawked.

“How’d you know my name?”

“Puh-lease! I may be 15, but I’m not stupid! Everybody here knows you and your mother,” he laughed. “The smaller the town, the bigger the news.”

“So I’ve noticed.” I held out my keys and Jacob hopped in, revving up the engine which made the same weird clunking noise. He pulled up into the garaged, then cut the engine and leaned out the window.

“Yeah, there’s definitely something wrong…I’ll have to take a look inside. It might be costly…and it might take awhile. Do you have a ride or are you just going to walk around?” I stared dismally out into the rain.

“Would you by any chance have a phone I could use?”

“Sure, sure. It’s back on that desk…just push the papers around until you uncover it.” I looked over the top of the counter and down onto the desk of papers. There was so much stuff lying there that I couldn’t tell where the phone might be. It was a uniform blob. I best start digging then, I thought, carefully pushing the papers to the side, making neat stacks instead of a pile.

Eventually I found the phone but with a jolt I realized I didn’t know my own number yet. Was it 4502? Or 5420? I set the phone carefully back down on the receiver, silently screaming at myself for being so stupid.

“So, Jacob…how long is this going to take?” He was already enthralled with the car, digging in like a buffet.

“Umm…It could take a few days actually…I think your engine might be loose,” he waved me over. “Yeah, see how it moves when I push on it? Yeah…that’s not supposed to happen…I’ll just have to fix that…and ew…when was the last time your car had a check-up?”
“Yikes…uh…it’s been a while…”

“Yeah…I can tell…Do you have somebody coming to get you?”

“…no…I- well,” I rubbed my neck sheepishly. “I don’t know my phone number…” He stared at me blankly for a moment, then burst into peals of laughter. It sounded oddly like a dog barking.

“Ah, that was great, sorry. That’s okay, I could give you a ride.” He jogged over to the wall and grabbed a set of keys and headed to the back of the garage where there was an old rusty red truck.

“Here ya’ go.” He patted the truck on the door and tossed me the keys.
“What? You’re giving me this truck??” I asked, flabbergasted.

“Yeah, well…just until your car is done. Why don’t you stop by tomorrow and you can give me your phone number and I’ll call you when I’m finished.”
“Sure, I guess.” I eyed the car over as Jacob trotted back to the garage to play with his new experiment.

The truck had to be at least fourty plus years old. I slipped into the cab which smelled of grease, tobacco and peppermint. I gagged a little before inserting the key and starting the truck.

The sound was deafening. It roared to life like a great beast that might suddenly decide to go on a wild killing rampage. I tried to turn on the radio to block out some of the ear-splitting scream, but it didn’t work, so I ended up just dealing with it. ‘I wonder what Mom’ll think when I show up with this baby.’

* * * * *

(Bella's POV)

The sun far gone, and the moon was just peaking over the edges of the trees. Stealthily I made my way across the street to the small white split-foyer home. The light was on in the living room. I was about to sneak across the lawn to peek inside, but I stopped myself. What was I doing here? What did I think I would obtain by being here? Nonetheless, I continued to creep across the grass to the high window. I was too short to see anything, and again I felt absurd for doing this. A short tree grew in the yard nearby. I quickly climbed it, looking around to see if any snooping neighbors should be watching. It was too dark to see anybody, and the rain added to my cover.

Making sure a leaf covered branch covered me almost completely, I turned back to the window to peak inside. I felt my addiction give a little as I saw him. Edward. He sat at a little upright piano which was covered in music; books, sheets, scraps. At the moment, he was writing quickly on a blank music sheet. He propped the paper up on the music stand, pushing aside a few books and sheets and readied his hands on the keys.

He started out slow and simple with only one hand, but then added the other. I was mesmerized. I didn’t know such perfection to exist. The melody was sad, morose. I could almost hear the notes crying at some loss. His mother who was cleaning up the dinner table in the adjoined dining room had stopped her clearing to watch him, her face soft, her eyes deep as though they were seeing something else. He came to an abrupt halt in the song, and with a frustrated sigh, tried to play an ending. Apparently it wasn’t satisfactory enough because he continued to pound at the keys, growing more aggravated as he went.

Suddenly, he turned around to grab something on the ground by his feet and he happened to look out the window. I gasped and jumped. He had to have seen me, but if I was fast enough, I could get out of sight, so I ran across the street to hide in the darkness. I didn’t see him come to the window, and soon the sound to the piano echoed out, muted slightly by the pounding of the rain. I waited until he came to the end once again, and but this time, he’d found an ending. He didn’t play it again like I’d hoped he would, so I left.

The next morning house was silent, not an odd occurrence, but enough to rouse me from my day dreams to walk down stairs. The first thing that always caught my eye was the grand piano. It was sitting in the sunlight by the window with a white sheet draped over it. It hadn’t been played in years --Carlisle being the only one who could even attempt to play-- and I often wondered why we had it.

Sunlight was still pouring in through the window; pink stripes playing with the dust that floated freely. I pulled back the sheet and revealed the wonder beneath. The paint was perfect. It was hard to believe there was wood underneath there-- that it was not just pure polished onyx. I could see my pale reflection on the lid as I lifted it to look inside. It reminded me of a treasure chest, the golden parts within glinted in the light. I gently dragged my fingers along the strings. There was a crescendo of sound, like a harp.

I took a seat at the piano, the hard bench creaking under my weight, and opened the keys. My eyes over the imitation ivories. Tentatively I pressed down a key and listened to the sound as it resonated through the room. Edward’s song played again in my mind, as it had done all night. I found myself trying to play the melody, but my one fingered musings could never do the full sound justice.

“That’s a pretty little tune,” called a high tinkling voice over my shoulder. I turned to see Alice hopping down the stairs. I felt oddly embarrassed to be sitting at the piano, as though I was caught doing something wrong. When I didn’t answer her she kept talking.
“How are you doing this morning?” she asked, smiling brightly.

“Fine,” I replied shortly.

“I’m sure you’ll be more than just fine later,” she called over her shoulder as she skipped off. “Come on guys! We’ve got to go to school!”