Two: Chatting

Edward is cocky, intimidating, mean and selfish. To me, at least. I've seen him with other girls, laughing and smiling and actually acting like a gentleman. But when he's faced with me, his persona totally changes, and he is arrogant and rude. He's like that also with teachers, some nerdy students, and his parents, who have yet to know about the pregnancy and his involvement in it.

"I still have no idea why you're talking to me," I say, playing with the hem of my shirt and trying to seem nonchalant, cool and put together, something I am, at this moment, not.

He shrugs his shoulders, trying to seem indifferent. "Have you decided what you're doing with it yet?"

I glare at him, my eye narrowed to little slits when I say, "The baby isn't an it, it's a she, so stop talking about the baby like she's last week's garbage. And why do you care what I'm doing with her? It isn't like you care."

"Well," he says, shoving his hands into his varsity jacket pockets and rocking on his heels. "I heard of this really great adoption agency, just out in Seattle. They have walk- in meetings, consulting, everything."

"Are you serious?" I gape, wondering if he's serious,and if he really thinks that I would give this baby up for adoption. I mean, I definitely considered it at first, when I was scared and felt so vulnerable. But when I first felt the baby kick, felt her moving inside of me (which wasn't really that long ago) I knew this baby had a place: with me. "I'm not giving the baby up for adoption."

He leans down, his face so close to mine. I am breathing hard, my chest rising and falling vigorously with each breath. I wonder why he is suddenly so interested in what I was going to do, because it wasn't like he was actually going to effected by any of my choices.

"Adoption is always an option, and so is…" He stops, shakes his head, and says, "Never mind, but always just keep your options open. Always."

I bite my lip so hard I taste blood. I wipe it away with my tongue and cringe at the awful metallic taste is forms on in my mouth. "I'm keeping this baby."

"Whatever." He shrugs. "Your life; not mine. I was just trying to make it a little easier on you, you know? Like, lift a weight of your shoulder or something like that. I don't know."

"You shouldn't be concerned about anything weighing on my shoulders," I say, my voice rough, hoarse and dry. "Now, can you please just go and leave me alone? Please."

He sighs, but before he can do anything else, all of his football buddies are right behind him, gathered around him, around us, and I feel the panic creeping up on my throat. They nudge Edward in the arm, and he turns towards them and laughs.

"Ah, man," one of the guys, a tall guy, built with large shoulders and curly hair I recognized as his brother, Emmett, says. "You buggin' this little lady here? Shame on you." And I can tell by the way he says it that it's a joke, that he doesn't really care. But if he does, it surely is hard to tell.

"We take our eyes off of you for two seconds, and look, you're already taking with… erm, with…" I look at the guy who I know from history as Jesse and wish that I wasn't having this conversation, wasn't drawing this kind of attention to myself, especially not to the friends of Edward.

"C'mon guys," Edward says, still chuckling. "You know how it is. Just tryin' to be nice, that's all. No big deal, right?" He looks at me, his gaze so intense is makes me want to vomit.

"No big deal," I agree, giving a curt nod. "Not a big deal at all."

AS YOU WISH

"How was school?"

I drag myself into the living room where my parents, Renee and Charlie, are sitting in the den of our small, two story and three bedroom house. The plasma television is on the wall, and a soap opera is on. Charlie is only pretending to watch because Renee is, and he would much rather be watching sports.

I take a seat on the arm of the couch and pull my cardigan tighter across my body. "Fine," I say. "School is school."

"Did anything interesting happen?" Charlie asks, because he is the one who nags. "Anything at all?"

I think back to the conversation with Edward at gym, and want to say yes, that something interesting did happen. But I don't. They don't know that Edward is the father. When I told them I was pregnant, they asked, but I told them I didn't know. I told them it happened at a party, that I didn't know who he was and that he went to a school in Port Angelas. They didn't really like that and I could tell by their reactions when I told them –wide eyed and gaping- that it wasn't what they expected of me. It wasn't what I expected of myself, either.

"I'd love to stay and talk," I say, "but I've got to get upstairs. My feet are killing me, and I need a nap, desperately. I'll see you during dinner, okay?"

They nod and I hurry off upstairs as briskly as I can go, which isn't really that fast, considering my state. When I get to my bedroom, I take off my cardigan and flick it on my bed before walking over to my bulletin board. I trace my fingers along the outlines of the baby's face, going over the ridges of it's nose and mouth, the standard black and white image meaning so much to me. I press my hand to my stomach, willing myself not to cry.

I take a breath through my nose and turn. My bed is big and soft, and feels nice as I sit down, letting the down comforter and pillows relax my muscles, my sore back, my feet. And it isn't long before I am sound asleep.

AS YOU WISH

I scurry around my bedroom, grabbing books from my desk and pencils from the holder, scrambling to get ready to go to school, to face another day. I am just about to head out of my bedroom when I glance at the picture of the baby, her nose and mouth and eyes so beautiful in the 3-D image. I take it from the bulletin board and shove it in my pocket, then turn on my heel and head to school.

They parking lot is crowded when I get there. I find an empty spot close to the door and get out, pulling my coat tight across my body. I grab my bag from the backseat and turn to face the school. I'm just about to start walking when I hear, "Hey! Bella!" and I turn quickly around to see Jessica, my other best friend, walking towards me with Angela and Eric.

"Hey," I say when they reach me.

Jessica brushes past me and opens the door to my truck. She reaches across the drivers seat, opens the glove box, and pulls out a lipstick. Getting out of the car and standing up straight when she says, "I forgot this last time I was with you. That was what, two months ago?"

I nod. "About that."

And I don't get to say anything else before they are all headed to school, wanting to be early for homeroom. I swing my bag over my shoulder and stalk off -not towards homeroom- but instead towards Edward locker.

He is not at his locker when I get there. I reach into my bag and pull out a black marker, and then get the picture of the baby from the other pocket.

Payback.

I put the picture against the locker and look to my left, then right, to make sure no one is watching. No one is, so I quickly scribble on the back of the picture - Just thought you should see. She has your nose – and then I slide the picture into the crevice of his locker, just like I had done with the note all those months ago. Then I turn and head to homeroom.

When lunch rolls around, I take my normal spot in the back of the cafeteria. I see Edward's brother's and sisters -Alice, Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett- all sitting at the head table in the middle. But Edward is not there.

Jessica, Eric and Angela are all outside eating in the back of Eric's truck. I don't bother to go out when they eat there- Renee is afraid I might catch a cold, and with the baby and all, that wouldn't be a good thing. So I stay inside and eat my orange at the table in the back, just keeping to myself. It isn't long before I see Edward stalking through the crowd of people towards me, the picture in his hand faced down so no one can see it. When he reaches me, he slams the picture down hard, face up, on the table and says in a low voice, "Is this your idea of revenge?"

"Revenge?" I question tilting my head in mock stupid. Edward is breathing through his nose, his nostrils flaring with each intake of breath he takes. His hands are clutched at his side in fists, his knuckles white from strain. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you do," he spits, an angry edge to his voice. "You're trying to make me feel bad, trying to destroy my life. And it's not going to work."

"Don't talk about destroying lives," I say, now getting upset myself. "You've no right to take about me destroying your life. You don't have to carry around a baby for nine full months while someone else, who is just as responsible for putting that baby there as you are, walks around like nothing's happened."

He grits his teeth, his nostrils still flaring in and out. He doesn't say anything about that, but instead pushes the picture towards me, the face of our daughter inching towards me slowly as he says, "It doesn't have my nose."

I turn the picture back towards him at and point at the baby's nose, so tiny and cute. "But she does," I say, "and you can't see it because you don't care. And if you don't care, why are you talking to me?"

He thinks about this for a while, then after a moment, he says, "You're right. Why am I talking to you?" And then he turns his back and heads back into the crowd. I watch his back until he is gone from the cafeteria, the doors swinging behind him.

I put my hand on my stomach, frowning as I say, "You're father's an asshole."

AS YOU WISH

I am just about to head into the shower when Renee walks into my room. Her hair, cut short in a bob and dark brown, his just barely touching her shoulders, straightened, and highlighted, which can only mean one thing: she's going out.

She sits on my bed and I stand in front of her, a towel and face cloth slung across my arm. "Your father and I are going out. Some formal function for his work. We shouldn't home too late- around ten thirty, at the latest. Are you going to be fine on your own?"

I nod and place a hand on my stomach, feeling the baby kick. "I'll be alright on my own," I say. "I'll probably just stay in and watch a movie. I've got to get used to not going out anymore, so I guess this is good practise."

"Bella," she says in her motherly tone, a tone I had come to recognize. "My baby's having a baby." She leans forward and places both hands on my stomach, laughing when the baby kicks. "Unbelievable."

I nod, not really knowing what to say. As far as support goes, Renee was great. She had gone through a similar situation; becoming pregnant at a young age. But she was married, and is still married to my father, so it's completely different. She will never fully understand what I'm going through.

"You should go," I urge, shifting the towel from one arm to the other. "You wouldn't want to be late."

She nods and gets up off of my bed. Standing in the doorway she says, "Have a goodnight. You know where the emergency numbers are- on the fridge. If you need me or your father for anything, just call one of our cell phones."

I smile. "Okay," I say. "Bye."

Once I watch Charlie's cruiser back out the driveway and head down the road, I step into the shower. The water is hot as is cascades down my neck, my back, my legs. I quickly wash my hair and body, step out, then head back to my room to change.

I change into a pair of silk pyjama shorts and a over- sized tank top. I lay on my bed and look at the ceiling, my hands on my stomach, wondering how everything got so messed up. If I had it my way, Edward would be with me -but not actually withme- through all of this. It's his baby, too.

I don't want her to grow up without a father who cares somewhat about her.

I don't want to have to tell her how her father treated me.

I don't want to tell her how her father acted.

And I definitely don't want to tell her that he father didn't love her.

A/N- That's for all the awesome reviews, guys! It's really made my day. Now, most of this was written in school during English, so hence the crappiness. I hate writing free- handed; it just doesn't work for me. So I got home and revised it, and then this morning I decided to write the last little bit and post. It's 7: 15 in the morning, I still have to straighten my hair, and the bus comes at 7: 40. The stuff I do for you! :) Hehe, please review!