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The car ride to Seattle is fairly quiet, save for Edward’s classical CD’s playing and the crunch or slurp of whatever Jacob is noisily consuming in the back seat. Edward can see that Bella watches over him periodically from the passenger seat through her flip down mirror, or by turning her neck to the right to get a glimpse of Jacob’s head resting against the window; watching him sleep so peacefully or look at the raindrops. At a rest stop, Edward thinks to tell Bella she can sit with Jacob if she’d prefer, but decides against it when she comes back with a can of coke and chips, slipping easily into the seat next to him.
How human he is sometimes, tangled with the extraordinary problem of loving someone.
Jacob flexes his body along the back seats, stretching audibly. “Whew. I am stuffed,” he says, absentmindedly crumbling the empty paper bag and throwing it on the Volvo’s floor.
“Please respect my space and don’t leave your trash all over my car,” Edward hisses at him.
“I could just throw it at your head,” Jacob says, a lilt in his voice. The crumpling of the paper bag makes Edward snap his head back at Jacob, snarling his teeth.
“How I’d like to see you try.”
It’s when they pass the Seattle Public Library and Bella turns down the music and shushes their bickering, looking fondly out the window at the city and life around her, that Edward realizes this is where she belongs. Not stuck with him, suffocating and trapped in a life full of despair with no end in sight, but really with him , together, where she can be human and he can be a vampire. Maybe it will all work out.
“Do you remember anything from your time here?” Bella asks, diverting her attention back to Edward. The question surprises him; he couldn’t remember if he told her exactly about his experiences in Seattle, or if he just said it in passing, an unimportant bit of the rest of what he’s told her.
He’s certainly thought in the waking days and weeks before the move-in where he’d like to take her: the wells that collected rain during droughts, the Frye Museum and local libraries, the perfect talking spots in the woods with ubiquitous peace. Take her out to dinner at a restaurant that used to be a small overnight school for women, and tell her all of the memories he can unearth from the myriad of experiences he’s had around the world, big and small. Watch her order a much healthier option—even for a diner—and wipe a smudge of ketchup off her face, tasting the sweetness of her lips instead. He would have never expected Seattle to be full of such opportunity.
“You went here?” Jacob chimes in, interrupting his musing.
“When we first moved to Forks, it was the best fit for us to pursue higher education in the area. Back then it was far more religious, though. I’m sure it’s largely more progressive today. I remember the churches and parishes, since I found them always so beautiful. Nothing about early 20th-century education is particularly riveting nowadays.”
The contemporary academia experience Edward is much thankful for. He can only imagine the information and degrees he’ll accumulate in today’s era of education—a benefit he attributes his vampiristic qualities to, of having his knowledge and memory to rely on; only so many human brains have the capacity for such knowledge, but Edward is left free to learn at any impossible rate.
The last time Edward attended SU, times were much different. But even without any distinct memories of the campus and its studies, he remembers exactly when they’re close to arriving. The vibrant life of the city, the different cultures, how wet and dark it got in the winter—it was perfect for Edward. At a stop light, he takes in his surroundings: the bustle of incoming freshmen hurrying off a shuttle bus with their belongings; vendors and small shops; the smell of food that, maybe in another lifetime, would be appealing to him.
“Tell me more. You can’t leave me hanging with all of this,” Bella pleas.
Edward smiles at his visions of Bella and him tucked away in a leathered booth at a diner off-campus, sharing stories back and forth. “Later. I promise.”
Edward pops his CD—out and reaches in the glovebox, sifting through his own collection until he finds the Linkin Park CD Phil gave to Bella before she left for Forks. He remembered she left it in his car one day, after a date in the meadow where he brought his portable DVD player and they listened to music for hours until Bella had to go home for dinner, and knew he’d use it for this moment.
He puts the CD in and turns up the volume; when the first couple of musical seconds pass, Bella turns to Edward, smiling shyly with a look of awe on her face.
“You…” Bella tries to find the words. “How did you remember?”
“A vampire perk,” Edward says, shrugging nonchalantly.
Though, he’s played this moment in his head repeatedly for weeks, even taking a solo trip down to Seattle himself to get the timing just right: the look on Bella’s face, the small gasp she made at the sound of Chester Bennington’s voice, the reflex of her lips moving to his cheek.
“I thought you’d might like to think about them today, with Renée and Phil being so far away from the move,” he adds, worried he’ll be unable to read how Bella is truly feeling about being on her own, away from those closest to her. It’s just like going from Phoenix to Forks with Charlie; it’s Seattle and college and Edward and Jacob, a combination that could make anyone wary about such a big decision.
The blush on Bella’s cheeks settles warmly. “Phil’s not wrong about this one. He used to play it all the time around the house, it honestly started to make me hate it.”
“Do you miss them?” Edward asks.
Bella is silent for a minute, before saying, “I don’t think that’s the right word to describe it. I don’t really feel homesick. I feel—I feel free, kind of. It’s just another city, but I only have to worry about myself. Does that make me a bad person?”
The quiver in her voice when Bella asks the question causes Edward’s hands to tense against the steering wheel, his body aching. It’s as if she was asking for confirmation, if such an answer is up for debate. He wonders just how crushing the weight of Bella’s past and her familial responsibilities contributes to the guilt she feels today. It nearly makes Edward mad at both Charlie and Renée for letting Bella feel this way, letting it go unnoticed in their own daughter. But Bella would never want that, so he tries to steady his contradicting anger and tenderness in how he responds.
“Bella, you are and will never be a bad person.” He wishes she could hear his thoughts about her, what he couldn’t possibly express with words. “It hurts me to hear you talk about yourself like that. Do you truly see yourself as a bad person?”
Bella shakes her head. “But isn’t it bad I won’t really miss them?”
Edward quickly pulls over the car and puts it into park, taking Bella’s hands into his; so used to his cold hands she is that she doesn’t even flinch at his unexpected touch. “I don’t think so. It’s complicated, Bella. You did so much for them, and now you’re older and able to be on your own, and you’re happy for some freedom. That’s what every child who leaves home feels—but not everyone dealt with the responsibilities you had, or feels the guilt you feel. It’s okay to feel this way, Bella. I love you,” he says, pressing his lips to her hands and holding them close to his chest.
“I love you.”
Jacob sits up in the middle of the back seat and reaches his arm over to Bella to touch her shoulder for comfort. Edward finds the gesture sweet, reassuring. At least someone else is so keen on Bella’s feelings of herself, and how warped her perspective can look from someone who truly knows her. Perhaps Jacob knows her more than Edward would like for him to.
“Shall we get our grown-up Bella all moved in?” Jacob asks, punctuating it with a clap of his hands.
“As long as you let grown-up Bella get her own bags, then yes.”
Edward cackles out loud.
“No shot, Bella!”
Jacob beats Bella to the trunk of the Volvo, fighting off her weak attempts to unclasp his hands from her bags. She packed light, insisting she didn’t need to pack nearly half of the items Edward suggested. The only mementos she took from her bedroom in Forks was the pink camera Charlie gave her, pictures with friends and family, and her bracelet with Jacob and Edward’s charms.
“No fair,” she says, breathless. “You got a head start.”
Jacob smirks. “Not so grown-up after all.”
As Edward walks towards the back of the car, a small group of college-aged girls walk by him, whispering conspiratorially to each other. Jacob whistles at them to get their attention, but their eyes are fixated on Edward.
Hey, hot stuff!
Hot damn!
I haven’t seen him around here. Must be new. Maybe he’s single.
Edward rolls his eyes behind his sunglasses; he wouldn’t have agreed to the college terms if he knew this unwanted attention would become a problem. Maybe next time he needs to simply show his eyes to them and they’ll scare themselves off.
“Edward, you sure you can handle this?”
“Handle what?”
Edward can already see a grin spreading on Jacob's face. “This super new phenomenon for you: having women on college campuses.”
Edward’s laugh is hollow. “Funny. How long have you been sitting on that one, Jacob?”
Bella snickers beside him. “The whole car ride up.”