An Alternative Choice: Bella and Jacob's Story

Chapter II: Looking

Looking

As I lay in bed painfully reading Romeo and Juliet for the eighteeth time (that number was cursed, it was by far the stupidest number ever created), I heard a noise come from my computer. I got up and made my way over, sitting numbly on my blue computer chair. I reached for the mouse and moved it to unlock my screensaver.

1 new message, my computer told me. Sent from: Mom. Saturday, October 19. 4:01 PM.

I looked at the icon next to 'Mom.' My mom was on Phil's back at some beach. They were standing at the ocean's mouth. I could see the frothy foam at Phil's feet. It looked pretty cold, but Phil didn't seem to notice. The sky behind them was bright pink and it exploded in electric orange at the bottom. Whoever took the picture had a part of their thumb covering the camera's lenses.

I shook my head and smiled. That's my mom, I thought. I clicked the message.

Hi Bella, it's Mom! How are things? Please write back ASAP! (That's as soon as possible, right?) PS. Do you like my profile pic? I finally figured out how to change it! From, your unsavvy mother

After that was a little smiley face. I started typing.

Hi Mom. Things are good. Charlie and I are going out to dinner tonight at this place. I forgot the name, but Charlie says it's pretty good. I think it'll be fun. And yes, I like your profile pic. You can text AND you can change pictures? I guess technology isn't your weakness anymore.

I laughed without much humor. I looked again at the proile picture. While perched on Phil's back, my mom looked truly happy. I was glad. She deserves that. Phil was doing good. I'd have to do something nice for him or something.

Have fun, okay? Love you. From,  

Bella

Suddenly, the name Edward slipped into my mind, somehow dodging the barrier I had tried to put up. I flinched for a brief moment, and then sighed. I pinched myself on the arm. Hard. I didn't want to think about him anymore. I had already spent the last two months in my room, staring out the window, waiting for a hopeless chance that I might just see him out on the front lawn, smiling that ever perfect smile at me. Charlie's been worrying about me for the past couple of months, and just to make him happy, I would go downstairs and pretend I would be watching the ESPN with him. My mind would always somehow slip away, into a dark abyss that would swallow up all I cared about.

I turned away from the computer. I felt a little lightheaded. I trudged over to my bed and laid down. I didn't know when I fell asleep, but when I opened my eyes I was staring up at my ceiling. I stayed there for a second, blinking. I looked out the window and realized it was almost dawn. I could hear the little pit- pattering of the rain hitting my window, and the tree branches tapping along with the rain. I got up to check my email to see if I had gotten any messages. I had one from Mom, and I quickly replied.

I went back to bed and read a couple of pages of Romeo and Juliet. I started crying for some reason, and I woke up again to my ceiling, staring back down at me.

And so that's how the days went: flying past without warning. I stayed in my room, only coming out if necessary. Charlie was concerned as ever, the worry line on his forehead deepening. I tried to stay as quiet as I could, say as many words as needed. The month October raced by, followed by November. In November it became Antarctica. And throughout all those days, I would just look out my window and wait.

Wait for something. Wait for a sign.

It was until one freezing November morning when Charlie called up to me from downstairs, his voice drowning over the sound of yelling football crowds. I looked toward my closed door, but said nothing.