Chapter Ten - Come Hell or High Water

“People only see what they are prepared to see.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter Ten – Come Hell or High Water

EPOV

As usual, my thoughts were plagued by her. Truck girl. It was beginning to frustrate me to no end. Never in my life had I thought so much about one girl, then again, never in my life had I wanted one as much as I wanted her. It was throwing me off my stride.

At least I knew where she lived now. And wasn’t it a stroke of luck that she happened to be right down the hall? I didn’t want to dwell on how I had missed her all the time, or how she had managed to avoid me. Thoughts like that were sure to only piss me off.

Instead I thought about her eyes, so warm and deep. All I had to do was close my own eyes to remember how lost I felt staring into their penetrating depths. Her hair, so soft and fragrant. I could still feel it ghosting across my skin as it surrounded us both. Her lips, so luscious and full. I wanted to feel them, to taste them. Her body, so soft, yet so firm. I imagined my hands running over her, pleasuring her. Her voice, so timid and shy. I wanted to hear it again. Saying my name, whispering in my ear, screaming with desire. I shook myself out of my daze, shocked at myself and more than a little turned on. What was this girl doing to me? I still didn’t even know her name!

One thing was certain; I would make her mine. Whether she knew it or not, I did. There was no other way it could be. No way at all. I wake up every morning thinking of her, go to sleep every night dreaming of her, and spend the entirety of my days wanting her. It was getting out of control.

I glanced at my clock and noticed it was nearly 8:30. Jasper should be back with my coffee by now. It was the second best way to start my day. The only thing better would be if a certain brunette woke up beside me. But that would happen soon enough.

I walked out into the living area and was greeted by emptiness. No chattering TV, no Jasper, and the most depressing thing about it, no coffee. He was supposed to be here with my morning brew. It was our routine. It was sacred. What on Earth could possibly have been more important than our most sacred routine?

I sat on the couch and glared at the door, willing it to open. I could still faintly hear Emmett snoring away from the other room, and that only enraged me further. Who wanted to listen to that rumbling without their morning coffee? Certainly not me. I contemplated going in there and dumping him out of his too small bed, just so someone else would be as irritated as I was.

After 15 minutes of muttering and glaring, I finally heard the sound of keys in the door. I launched myself off the couch, desperate for my morning fix, but froze when Jasper walked in. He was a fucking mess. His shirt was untucked and unbuttoned, and was that coffee all down the front of him? I groaned to myself.

“Please tell me that’s not my fucking coffee all over your shirt.” I shot him my most lethal look, hoping he would be ashamed of himself for committing a crime so heinous. But he didn’t even look at me. It was more like he was looking right through me. He had this ridiculous fucking smile on his face and I instantly wanted to punch him. That fucker met a girl. I glared at him once more, and just because it would make me feel better, I punched him in his shoulder.

He turned that goofy smile toward me and beamed at me. He actually had the audacity to beam at me when I hadn’t had my morning coffee. Did he want to die? I crossed my arms over my chest

“What?” He still had that goofy look on his face, and it was apparent he hadn’t been paying one bit of attention to me.

“My fucking coffee! Tell me that’s not what’s all over your god damn shirt!” I was enraged. My routine was broken, I had no coffee, and I was about to go through the fucking roof.

He looked down at himself like he had no clue his shirt was a fucking mess. Then he smiled at me again. “Sorry about that.” Then he turned to go sit on the couch. I just stood there, stunned. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Is that all? You’re sorry? What the fuck happened? Did you get jumped? There’s got to be a good reason you showed up here looking like that, and without my coffee!” No one would be kidding if they said I wasn’t a morning person.

“Of course I didn’t get jumped. I met Alice.” Who the hell? Just when I was getting ready to ask that, he continued, “She was behind me at the coffee shop and I nearly spilled our drinks on her. Good thing I didn’t or she might not have ever talked to me.” He looked so happy, I didn’t want to bring him down, but I didn’t have any fucking coffee.

“Okay. Trying to not get pissed off here seeing as though you didn’t replace my coffee, but who the hell is Alice?”

“The girl with the yellow Porsche.” My mind spun in a million different directions. If he met her, it was a good possibility he knew more about her.

“So… Alice, huh?” I was going to need to be sneaky about this. “And what did you guys talk about?”

“I didn’t ask her about Truck Girl, so don’t get your hopes up.” Well, fuck me. Here I thought I was being stealthy. “I did find out she lives right down the hall with her two roommates though.” His brow quirked because he knew I’d find that interesting. “She asked about you specifically. Wanted to know if I was rooming with the ‘bronze-haired guy’ she saw me with the other day.”

“Did you ask why?” My hands were starting to get clammy.

“Didn’t have to. She said one of her roommates had bumped into him the day before that. Did you happen to bump into any other girls that same day?” He was snickering at me now. Much like he and Emmett had both been since the whole story came out. They still found it hilarious that I had knocked her over in the stairwell.

“No, I didn’t. It’s got to be the same girl. What room are they in?”

“What room do you think?” Then he smirked at me, and I had my answer.

Neither of us noticed Emmett come into the room, which was shocking considering his sheer size. We both jumped a foot when his voice boomed out, “Is she rooming with the blonde too?” All I could do was laugh. We were all done for. Every fucking one of us.


I had to mentally prepare myself for my lesson tonight with Tanya. She hadn’t taken kindly to me shooting her down, and I was silently praying that she would have let it go by now. Those hopes were dashed when she walked in wearing next to nothing and slid as close to me as possible on the bench.

“So, Eddie…what did you want to do with me tonight?” Her eyes were twinkling at me and I didn’t miss the double entendre. But I didn’t want to do anything with her. I just wanted to give her piano lessons and go on my way. Why did life have to be so damn complicated? I wanted to cringe when she called me that. I hated being called Eddie, especially by Tanya.

“First thing, don’t call me Eddie. Ever. Second, why don’t we start with your scales?”

Gruff was the name of the game, and I was sticking to it like glue. I didn’t want her to get any further ideas. In fact, I wanted to find a way to shoot down the ideas she already had.

All throughout the lesson, Tanya would rub her leg against mine. She sat entirely too close for comfort, and she was batting her eyes at me. Her scent was strong, like she had doused herself in perfume before walking in here and it made me want to gag. It was overly floral, like hothouse roses just gone to wilt. I was getting nauseous and felt like I was swimming in the scent. It was nothing like hers. A small smile came to my face just thinking about her.

Tanya mistook it as a smile for her and ran her hand from my shoulder to my hand. “Time’s up Eddie. Why don’t we get out of here and go somewhere a little more… private.”

I jerked my hand away from her and glared at her. Subtlety obviously wasn’t working. Perhaps crass would. “No Tanya. I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t interested in you. Am not now, and will never be. Your type,” I gestured to her overly-provocative outfit, “shouldn’t have any trouble finding someone willing to play your games. Count me out.”

She was shooting daggers at me with her eyes and her breasts were heaving. The sight didn’t even arouse me a little. “And furthermore, if you can’t let this go, I’ll have to suggest you find yourself a new private teacher.” With that, I grabbed my things and stormed out of the practice booth and down the hall to the one I had signed up for.

My anger was taking over me and I could feel it bubbling under the surface. The music poured out, hot and angry. My fingers flew across the keys and the sound scorched the air. This wasn’t peaceful music, nor was it meant to soothe my soul. This was pissed off, fuck the world, leave me alone music.

Not too long before, I would have gladly jumped at the chance to romp between the sheets with a girl like Tanya. The difference was that a girl like Tanya wouldn’t be interested in just one romp. She had ‘calculating bitch’ written all over her. And even more, that was all before I found myself in a tumbled heap in the stairwell of my dorm with her. Ever since then, I couldn’t even see anyone else.

As my mind focused on her once again, the tune changed. The fire fizzled out and all that was left was that lingering melody that had been haunting me. Her lullaby. The passion rose and ebbed as it poured out of me. One part of my mind demanded to stop and write the notes down while the other insisted on continuing, vowing to commit each note to memory.

Once again I lost track of time while I was composing this piece. Or rather, while it composed itself through me. I had never before written anything as fulfilling and beautiful as this one piece. It seemed to overshadow everything else I had ever done in my life. I didn’t want to linger on the reason why for now.

I reluctantly gathered my things and made my way home. There was a crisp breeze that blew my hair in every direction. As I was coming up on the library, there was something else on the breeze too. A faint scent. Strawberries and freesia. I whipped my head around and once again saw her coming out of the library.

I stood there for a moment watching her. There was something about her that called to me, drew me in. Like a siren. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was tired of watching and waiting. I want her. I will make her mine. Even as she stumbled, I was still drawn to her presence. She was beckoning me.

I was certain by this point that she was my missing half, my better half. She has to be the one that can finally complete me and make me whole. Ever since she barreled into my life, it’s been brighter. She’s the reason I get up each day, just on the off chance I might finally run into her again.

I need to hold her, to know her, to love her, to possess her. I want to claim her and somehow mark her as mine. Not to spite Mike, although that will be a nice side benefit. But I want her for her. Nothing else matters. As a plan formed in my head, I silently followed her to our dorm. Tomorrow was a new day. Truck girl didn’t stand a chance.


TPOV

I followed that asshole out of the practice room and down the hall. I couldn’t believe the things he said to me. The nerve! Calling me a whore, just without the actual word. Like the meaning would slip right over my head. As if. I would just have to make him see reason.

I was shocked to hear the anger pouring out of the keys. When I had done my research, nothing had clued me in that he was so gifted a pianist. Nothing I had ever done had equaled his mastery of the keys. It made me want him all the more.

Most people thought I was a bimbo, but I knew what I was doing. When I had first started researching the men here at Dartmouth, there were several options open to me. I had narrowed it down to two guys, Edward Cullen and Royce King. Both were extremely attractive and both came from ridiculous amounts of money. What tipped the scales for me was Edward’s musical talent. I could just imagine him serenading me every night. Yes, I had chosen well.

I was lost listening to his music, even if it was angry. Then, without warning, the tune shifted. It was such a sweet melody that was barely floating through the thick paned door. I peeked around, praying he wouldn’t see me, trying to catch a glimpse of him while he played. His eyes were closed and a small smile graced his cruel lips. I wanted to know what made him smile that way. I wanted to know why he didn’t smile at me that way.

When he was finished, I ducked back around the corner and waited a minute before following behind. I wanted to know more about Edward Cullen. The man I would someday marry. I had to find out his weaknesses. I had to know what made him tick. I would make him mine. He didn’t stand a chance.

I nearly balked when he suddenly stopped near the library. I was certain he had discovered me and was going to give me another lashing, but he never looked my way. Instead he was staring ahead, looking at something else. From my vantage point all I could see was some girl. He couldn’t possibly be looking at…wait a minute. He is looking at her. Looking at her with such longing, like he wanted her. But, why?

I stood there silently fuming. There was no way he wanted her over me. I staked prior claim. How could some mousy, insignificant, boring girl like that retain his interest? She doesn’t deserve someone like him. She doesn’t even hold a candle to me. How could he have turned me down, scorned me for some Plain Jane nobody like that? It just wasn’t possible.

In that moment I made a decision. I will find out who she is and I will destroy her. Nothing will stand in my way. A girl like me does her research well, and a girl like me deserves to be on the arm of a rich, successful, powerful doctor like him. And most importantly, a girl like me always gets what she wants, despite the competition. They say, ‘hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.’ Whoever ‘they’ are obviously never met me.