My Angel

#7

Rosalie POV -
The minute I walk in, I smell Hayden's scent. Someone whips their head up. It's her. Of course it's her. I walk to the fiction section. I look for a book I haven't read yet and hear her walk up behind me.
"What are you looking for?" she asks me.
"Something good. I read most things."
"Interesting. You strike me as a romance person."
"I'll read it, if it's good or has another storyline. I used to read it a lot when I was growing up though."
"Knew it. Here."
She took a book off the shelf next to us and hands it to me.
"The Shock of the Fall, Nathan Filer," I read out from the cover.
"It's one of my favourite books. It's dark but quite funny and really, really good."
"I'll give it a go," I tell her, smiling. She nods at me before going back to her seat. I laugh under my breath when I see she's reading Dracula. I look for a few other books as well, before sitting down on a beanbag slightly away from her and start reading the book she recommended. I get stuck in it until someone taps my shoulder. I look up, ready to bite someone's head off, until I look into the beautiful, red eyes of Hayden.
"What?" I ask with much less bite then I was going to.
"Sorry, but we have to go to class. You have five minutes."
"Oh. Thank you."
She nods at me before leaving.

I pass the office on the way to my car and notice Hayden in there.
"I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Miss Taylor."
"Thank you."
She leaves the office and sees me and says, "timetable mistake. It's sorted now."
She walks away. I don't think much about it and walk to my convertible. Just before leaving, Emmett knocks on my window. I roll it down.
"What do you want?"
"It's nice to see you too. Listen, I need a lift."
"Why can you not use your own car?"
"Because my car is Albert's car who is taking it home. And I'm not talking to Albert until he admits that it's jam then cream. Or makes it up to me in some way."
"You know you're hurting yourself doing this, right?"
"Maybe. I'll probably be talking to him by 11. But he doesn't need to know that."
"Trust me, he knows that."
"I'll be spending the day with my wonderful sister."
"Are you sure?"
"I was thinking Seattle."
"Get in the car."
"Thank you."
He gets in the passenger seat and turns the radio on.
"My car, my choice."
I switch the radio to greatest hits.
"I miss my car."
"Should've driven in your car."
"Be honest, you like spending time with your favorite brother."
"I don't see Jasper in this car."
"Oof."
"What is your plan in Seattle anyway?"
"Mall. Arcade. Maybe the art museum?"
"Why not."
"Can I choose the music?"
"Absolutely not."

We went to the mall, and Emmett immediately went towards the arcade.
"No. I brought us here. We're going to the shops."
"But Ro-ose."
"You are such a child. I need some new clothes. And I was thinking on getting temporary streaks in my hair."
"Do we have to? Just give me some coins, I'll pay you back and we can both do what we want."
"No. I need someone to hold my stuff."
"How much are you planning on buying!?!"
"Don't know. That's why I need you."
"Just because I'm stronger than you, doesn't mean you aren't strong enough to carry dresses," he grumbled.
"Emmett, I let you in my car. I drove us to Seattle. Do you want to push me?"
"If I come shopping with you, I get to choose the music on the way back."
"Deal."
He didn't complain much after that.
"Red or black?" I asked him, putting two dresses up against me.
"They're both fine."
"You are a terrible shopping buddy. I miss Alice."
"Why did you bring me here if you were just going to complain about me?"
"It's fun watching you get increasingly frustrated."
"You're mean."
"I know."
"The dark red one looks best. And the blue lace dress didn't look as good as the white dress. Makes you look like an angel."
"Good. Well done."
"Can we go now?"
"Let me pay. And find shoes. And temporary dye. I wasn't joking about my hair."
"Ugh."
"Compromise. Shoes, no hair. Then the arcade."
"Compromise accepted."
"I'm looking for knee high black boots with heels. Blocky heels, not thin heels. And white high top converse."
"Don't you already have a pair?"
"No. I have blue, black and dark red. And a pair of white normal converse. I made the mistake of wearing my old white high tops hunting. Blood didn't come out."
"That statement is so concerning out of context."
"It's slightly concerning in context too. I'm an idiot for wearing them when I know I get blood everywhere."
"Still concerning."
"I've found some heeled boots. And the converse. I need to try on the boots. Check the sizing. Then we should be good to go."
"Finally."
"You know I'll beat you at the games, right?"
"In your dreams."
"It is on. What's the bet?"
"For what?"
"If I beat you more times than you beat me, what do I get?"
"The satisfaction of being right."
"And?"
"And 20 bucks."
"I guess I'll be 20 bucks richer."
"I'm not so sure."
"New clause. Whoever loses drives home."
"Absolutely."
I win. By two points, but it's still a win.
"Looks like you're driving. And I would like my twenty."
He sighs, and hands me two tens.
"I'm sorry to bother you, but could you and your boyfriend take a picture of us?" a young woman asks me.
"Oh, we're-" Emmett, starts before I interrupt him.
"Yes, of course. We would love to. Isn't that right honey?"
"Of course we would." He glares daggers into the back of my head as the young couple gets into position in front of a claw machine, not seeming to notice. I take one of them with a hand on the joystick, and one with the woman who asked for the photo holding one of those cheap machine toys, with her partner kissing her cheek.
"Thank you. Do you want us to take any of you?" she asks.
"Oh, no thank you. We were just happy to help."
"You're the best."
She hugs me and they leave.
"Really? Boyfriend?" Emmett asks me once their oout of earshot.
"I saw an opportunity and I took it."
"Just because you won..."
"They made the assumption, not me. I don't think we're very couple-y."
"I hope not. I'm married, and you're my sister."
"I know. It's wrong on so many levels."
"Also, I'm not a ''honey''."
"Really?"
"No. I have been called many pet names, including but not limited to: babe, BFG, Eye Candy and PIC. But never honey."
"Interesting. But we are going to be getting back."
"And my choice of music. Maybe my husband will have rethought his wrong opinion."
"Speak of the devil," I say as his phone rings.
"Hello lover," he greets over the phone, "are you still of the opinion it's cream then jam?... Make it up to me? How?... Oh. Well I look forward to my return.... Love you too."
"I see things have been sorted," I note when he hangs up.
"Indeed they have. I need to get home. And I'm choosing the music."
"It better be good."
"No. It will be terrible. You gave me free reign, a decision you will come to regret."