For those of you begging for another chapter … Here it is! I'm so happy you all like my story. It's been fun reading your reviews and finding out what's been running through your heads. Thank you for all the new follows, favorites and amazing comments, I appreciate them more than you could imagine.

AlexRedGirl, thanks for letting me read this to you, and for your comments. And a huge thank you to my amaze balls beta, Fran. You rock, mama!

Pudding Cup

Chapter 7

"No Ange, I'm fine. I just need a ride home if that's okay."

Ange knows me like the back of her hand and could sense something was up when I asked her for a ride home. The past few days I've been going home with Edward after school, so it must have thrown up a red flag.

"Yeah, sure. But where's Edward?"Ange asks with a crooked brow, as we walk outside to her VW Bug and drive away.

I shrug my shoulder but continue to tell her what had happened in Art class.

"…and that's all I know." I took a deep breath trying to calm my nerves. "He hasn't texted me back and now I'm worried."

"What a douche," she says, squeezing my hand. "You're still going out tonight, right?"Ange turns on her blinker and then turns into the diner so we can get something to eat. Ange knows that greasy French fries always put a smile on my face—they are kinda my weakness. And as long as I dip the fries in my usual mustard-ketchup concoction, then I'm a happy girl.

"I'm not going to be the third wheel tonight, especially since it's your first date with Ben. You don't need to babysit me."

"Who said anything about babysitting, girl? We are going to par-tay!" Ange wiggles her shoulders and puckers, making duck lips. I giggle-snort, drawing unwanted attention from the table next to ours.

"Really, Ange? Par-tay?" I shake my head and lifted my brow. "You sound like Jessica Stanley," I say as I dredge two fries through the delicious orangish creation on my plate and stuffed them in my mouth.

"You're a bitch when you're grouchy." She winks at me, her way of telling me she's kidding.

I swallow my fries and take a drink of my chocolate shake before I continue, "I'm just gonna stay home. Maybe he'll call or something."

"Whatever. But, if you change your mind let me know. My mom thinks you're staying the night."

I nod my head, but I know I won't change my mind unless Edward does call or text, asking me out.

Ange and I don't leave the diner until we decide what she should wear on her date. She wants to look cute but at the same time hot, she said. She doesn't want to look too childish or too whorish. She wants something in the middle, so we decide she should wear her pink skinny jeans, navy tank top with metal studs around the neck, and her denim jean jacket. Ange decides she's wearing her contacts instead of glasses, and will put on a little more makeup than usual; which means she'll apply some blush and mascara.

I give my bestie a hug and thank her when she drops me off at my house. I dread going inside because it marks the start of my lonely weekend. Suddenly I have the urge to bake, and it's a good thing too, because baking seems to relax me, plus it'll keep me busy, and hopefully take my mind off Edward.

Putting my stuff in my room and changing into my PJ pants and cami, I head downstairs to get started on Bake Fest 2014. I'm starting with Chocolate Chip and then will work my way to Peanut Butter Crisscross. Oatmeal Raisin, Double Chocolate Chip and Snicker Doodles are also on my list.

After washing my hands and getting all the ingredients set out on the counter, I dive into my happy place. I barely notice my parents and the box of pizza they carry in and place at the kitchen table. I'm completely in my zone, but the problem is, I can't stop thinking about Edward. Cookie baking is doing the opposite of what I had hoped. It's turned into reliving the events of today, not to mention the sexy times I've had with Edward.

"Why don't you stop for a few minutes and eat a slice of pizza." My dad says, putting a plate on the table for me to join them.

"Um, okay." I'm still full from the snack Ange and I grabbed at the diner earlier, but I sit with my parents anyway and force a slice of pepperoni pizza down my throat. If I hurry and eat, maybe they'll leave me alone so I can continue my cookie baking marathon.

My plan works. I eat in just under ten minutes and excuse myself when the timer on the oven alerts me that the Oatmeal Raisin cookies are ready. The cinnamon-y smell wafting from the oven makes me smile. I envision giving Edward another dozen cookies and watching him devour them like he did the other day. Those perfect teeth biting into the soft cookie. Watching his tongue with the silver barbell lick away the crumbs almost has me running tomy room to touch myself. I wipe the dreamy look off my face and grab my plate from the table.

"Thanks for dinner," I say, while I put my plate in the sink before taking the sheet of cookies from the oven.

Mom and Dad continue eating and then make plans to drive to Port Angeles to catch a late movie. I silently pray they leave soon so I can sulk in the Snicker Doodle dough all by myself.

"I guess your Dad is taking me on a date tonight." The smile on Mom's face is sweet. My dad isn't much of a romantic, preferring to stay home and have game night. So I understand the goofy smile she's displaying.

"Have fun," I say as Mom puts her purse on her shoulder and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

"You have fun too. I'd say it looks like you're getting a head start on your cookie making for the neighbors."

I nod, she's correct. I will have enough cookies to hand out to the entire town of Forks if I keep up this pace.

"Yep." Is all I can say. They don't need to know I'm baking boy troubles away.

"Lock the front door after we leave, sweetheart," Dad says. "Oh, and your bedroom window was unlocked. That's not safe. You know that, Isabella. It's locked now."

"Always a cop," I mutter. Just the mention of the window has my heavy heart sinking into my stomach. That window is significant to me. It was my escape route on Tuesday when I snuck out and met Edward and it has brought him to me the past three nights as well. But considering I haven't heard fromhim since he bolted out of Art class today, I figure it's okay to keep the window locked. I'm afraid of where he is. The party in La Push is where it's all going down tonight. The biggest party of the year so far, is what I overheard Jessica and Tanya say in the bathroom at school.

As soon as I put another dozen cookies in the oven, I'm feeling worse about missing the party and for not getting a call or text from Edward. I figured I would put a chick flick in to watch in between making the rest of the cookies—for entertainment. I decide on the ultimate chick flick—The Notebook. I know I'll be a blubbering mess by the time the cookies are baked, cooled and packaged, but I don't even care. If I'm going to be miserable, I'm going out in style.

I reach for my phone in my pocket and remember I left it in my room when I got home from school, but at this point I'm pissed that I'm still home and there hasn't been a knock at my door. I think if Edward really cared then he'd be standing in my yard with a damn jam box on his shoulder, with some 80's love song blaring out of it trying to make up with me. But instead, I'm sitting on the couch with a plate of cookies, a glass of milk and a whole freaking box of tissues.

The next thing I know I'm being woken up by Mom and Dad.

"Sweetheart. It's eight o'clock and we just got a call from Grandma. Grandpa is in the hospital so we need to go soon."

Stretching my arms above my head and trying to open my eyes I ask, "Is he okay?" I realize I've been asleep on the couch the entire night.

"Grandma is pretty upset and would like for us to come. We'll find out more when we get there, but it's his heart again." Mom says, and I know she's upset because she looks away and I see her swipe at a tear.

"Okay, do I have time for a shower?"

Mom nods and I hurry to the bathroom.

After washing my hair and the dried, semi-sweet chocolate off my face, I dry myself and dress in some comfortable clothes. I pack a small bag in case we end up staying the night. We've made this trip before and at the last minute ended up staying, so I'm going prepared this time.

The drive to Seattle is long, and stupid me didn't plug my phone in last night, so it's dead. Now I have nothing to keep me occupied on the drive. If I had a car then I'd have a car charger, but instead I have a wall charger and will have to plug in when I can. I tune out the oldies music on the radio and block out the conversation in the front seat, letting my mind go wild. Several different scenarios have run rampant through my head. The one I'm focused on the most is the one where Edward ends up at the party and forgets about me. I'm not stupid; he has a bad boy reputation and also a rep of being a player. I can't help but think I've just been played.

Since Grandpa Phil is in ICU, only a two people can go in to see him at a time. I really don't care to see him sick and frail so I opt to stay in the waiting room, plus I need to juice my phone. I sit in the corner next to a plug, and in perfect view of the TV, waiting for my phone to come to life. I get lost in the latest celebrity news when suddenly my phone is pinging, alerting me to the news of the last eighteen hours.

Eight missed phone calls and tons of texts. I've never been this popular, ever, and I wonder what's going on. I start with the very first voice message. It's Edward, and I can't lie, his voice melts my heart and gives me warm fuzzies the second I hear him. He sends tingles to my core and a goofy smile is stuck on my face. He's saying he's sorry and for me to call him. The call is logged at midnight, and immediately I wonder where he's been the whole day. By midnight, I had already cried myself to sleep while watching a movie.

Seven of the eight voice messages are from Edward. The next one I listen to I hear people in the background and he sounds slightly drunk. He wants to know where I've been all night and I take offense to that. I was home all flipping night baking my heart out and trying to forget the fact that he forgot about me. The smile on my face begins to fade as I listen to each of his messages. I don't even understand what he's saying, but it sounds like 'puddin cups are messy'. I think he means missing, but he's the one freaking missing, not me. The next one is at nine o'clock this morning and it's from Ange. She only says to call her back ASAP. I'm almost afraid of the last voice message. Again, it's Edward; he placed the call an hour ago.

"Puddin' it's me, please call me. I'm so sorry for everything. I'm sorry for drunk dialing you. I'm sorry for going to the party and not leaving when I found out you weren't there. But Emmett said you'd call me today and to stay at the party, but you haven't called and I'm so fucking worried. I need to see you, please call me."

I'm in a bit of shock after listening to all the calls. One thing I know is that Edward ended up at the party in La Push, and he got shit-faced. I take a deep breath trying to keep my emotions in check. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but it's hard not to.

I open up my texts, noticing an unknown number. It's says:

Edward and his girlfriend Gianna. Aren't they cute?

It pains me to open up the picture, but I do it anyway. When I see what is staring me in the face, whatever food I ate on the way to Seattle starts churning, and I feel as though I'm going to be sick. I unplug my charger from the outlet and shove my phone in my purse while running to the ladies'room. I'm about to vomit and don't want to make a scene.

Thankfully it's a one stall room where I can lock the door and have some privacy. Tears stream from my eyes when I brave another look at my phone. A dark-haired girl sits on Edward's lap, nuzzling into his neck. I can't see her face,but I assume she's beautiful. It's an outside picture and it's a little dark, but it's his yellow snapback. I sketched that fucking hat; I'd know it anywhere, not to mention his unruly hair curling out around the edge of the hat. It's too surreal. His arm is around the girl's shoulder and what looks like a joint in his other hand and he's leaning forward, his face is a few inches from hers. I don't even want to imagine the kiss they must have shared or the fact that he might be giving her a hit of weed the way he did with me a few nights ago. I toss my phone on the sink as vomit hurls from deep within my belly. Luckily, the toilet is next to the sink and I don't have far to aim. Hot tears streak down my face as I keep heaving and emptying my stomach.

I feel so incredibly stupid.

I was right.

I was played.

I thank my lucky stars I didn't give up my virginity to him. He's a jerk that never really cared for me in the first place.

I splash cool water on my face and I decide I should call Ange.

Fuck Edward, I'm not calling that asshole.


He can take his stupid pudding cups and shove them up his ass.

Ange picks the phone up on the first ring.

"Bella," she shouts.

"Yeah?" I sniffle back a sob and Ange knows I'm upset.

"Where are you? Why haven't you been answering?"

"I'm in Seattle." I pause, wiping my nose. "My grandpa, he's in the hospital."

"Oh, Bella. I'm so sorry. Is he okay?" She's genuinely worried about Grandpa Phil. We both stayed with them for a week last summer. Ange is like a granddaughter to them.

"Um, I haven't been in to see him, yet. I was in the waiting room waiting for my phone to charge and I just got all these messages." The last part of my sentence is shaky, and I start to cry again.

"Why are you crying?"

"Oh, Ange." I pause again, wiping my nose. "Someone sent me a picture of Edward with a girl on his lap. He was at the party."

"That fucker!"

"Did you see him?" I ask.

"Yeah, and that's why I was calling. He got to the party really late. By the way, I told my mom I stayed at your house last night," she said, nervously. "Anyway, I called to tell you about that and to also tell you that Edward was asking about you. I wouldn't tell him where you were. I pretty much ignored him."

"Why would you do that?"

"Bella. He ditched you and then showed up at the party without you? I was pissed, and that douche bag needed to pay."

My legs feel wobbly so I sit down on the toilet after pulling out and placing two sanitary seat covers down first. I just needed to sit, before I face planted on the disgusting tile floor.

"Evidently he didn't miss me for long, because he found someone else to take my place." I put my forehead in my hands and tears start to resurface again.

Heartbreak sucks.

I knew there was a reason I never wanted a boyfriend. And Edward has shown me why. He has reaffirmed exactly why I've never dated.

Edward stole my heart, squeezed it and tore it into tiny pieces, destroying me in just one day.

A naive little girl getting her heart stomped on, and he probably enjoyed every minute of it. I disregard all of Edward's calls, now that I have visual from his eventful evening. I want to send the picture to him and show him that I know just how sorry he is—not—and I probably will, but not just yet.

"He can go fuck himself." Ange throws in her two cents.

"He won't need to now," I say, thinking of the girl in Edward's lap and the things they probably did to one another last night. A wayward tear slowly falls from the corner of my eye.

"If it's any consolation, I spit my gum on the hood of his car." An evil laugh escapes her petite body. I wonder about her sometimes—she's the devil in drag.

A small huff of air escapes my nose thinking about sticky gum on Black Beauty. I love my girl, she always has my back. "I should go. My parents might be looking for me." I add.

"Call me when you're on the way home, kay?"


After hanging up the phone with Ange, I debate whether I should send the incriminating picture to Edward. It takes me a moment to decide that I'm not going to. Not hearing from me will hurt more, if he even cares. Which at this point I'm sure he doesn't, so sending the picture wouldn't matter anyway.

Talking to Ange made me feel slightly better. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she will make Edward pay for being an asshole. If I know Ange, and I do, the gum on Black Beauty is just the beginning of her wrath.

I clean myself up and put some powder on my nose trying to disguise the Rudolph look I'm sporting. I make my way back to the waiting room, and find another seat. Deciding I can't handle any more drama today, I turn off my phone and read the book I brought to escape from my reality. Luckily I'm here by myself for another hour before my parents and Grandma come looking for me. My face has had time to stop looking splotchy, or else I'd be getting the third degree.

"Well, it looks like we're staying the night, sweetheart," my dad says.

"Good thing I packed a bag." I give him a tight smile and put my book back in my purse.

"Come on. Let's go grab something to eat, it's gonna be a long night," he says and wraps his arm around my shoulder as we leave.

Long night is an understatement.

I just want to go home and cry in the privacy of my own room to sappy love songs about break ups. Instead, I get to eat soggy fried chicken and pasty mashed potatoes from the hospital cafeteria.

Yay me!

On Monday, Grandpa is moved to a room on a regular floor, and Mom feels better about his progress so we can leave. The drive back to Forks is nerve wracking. I want to be home, yet I don't want to deal with the finger pointing and laughs at my expense when I go back to school.

Straight-laced Bella gets dumped by bad-boy Cullen.

I can hear it now.

I wait to call Ange until I get home. I can almost bet that she has more dirt for me about Edward, and I wonder what else she has done to get back at him. I'll want all the details from school today and I won't really be able to talk with my parents sitting in the front seat of the car. So, I bite my fingernails to pass the time and think about all the swirling gossip at school.

As we pull up to our house, I've never been so happy to be home in all my life. It's dark and I'm ready for bed. I tug my purse over my shoulder and get out of the car. I stretch my legs and arms and continue to walk inside. I look upto my bedroom window and feel sadness as I walk by. I almost wish I can change rooms and forget about the beautiful boy that crawled through that window to me.

"I'm gonna go to bed. Goodnight." I say to my parents as I tiredly trudge up the stairs.

My hand stills on the doorknob of my room before I enter. I don't want to remember the memories of the past few nights when I open the door, but I know I will. How can I forget the feel of Edward lying in my bed with his arms wrapped around me? Those memories have me regretting the way I fell so hard for that bad boy. I shut my eyes and bite the bullet, twisting the handle and walking into my own personal hell. I closedthe door behind me before feeling my way to my nightstand to turn on the soft glow of my lamp.

I fall to my bed and sigh. The covers are haphazardly pulled up, not at all the wayI left them yesterday. The scent of Edward remains on my pillow; it's both delicious and heart wrenching. Suddenly I sit up wondering if I have Bloodhound senses, because the smell of his cologne shouldn't still be lingering in my room from four nights ago. When I am fully upright and looking toward my dresser, I'm flat out shocked at what I see.

There is a pudding masterpiece erected on the top of my dresser. My mouth is hanging open in awe at Edward's sheer creativity. There must be at least two hundred pudding cups if not more, in a pyramid. Every flavor is present as well. I can't help but imagine him buying out the local grocery store. But no matter how freaking amazing the pudding art is, I can't forgive him for cheating on me.

I walk to my dresser and turn on my phone. Of course, it pings from the many texts I've received, but I ignore them and snap a picture so that I'll be able to look back at this and laugh someday—hopefully.

As soon as I've captured the palatial pyramid of pudding I open the top two drawers of my dresser and start knocking the cups down into them. When they are filled to the top, I open the next two drawers and do the same. I can't even imagine how I would begin to explain to my mom and dad, where and how these cups of bliss came to be in my room. I'd be interrogated to the fullest by my dad the cop.

I don't know what to think about Edward's gesture. I'm not sure why he felt the need to do this for me. It's obviously to make up for him acting like a dick, but at this point I'm not sure he even knows that I received the picture of him and the girl. In the back of my mind, part of me wonders whether he's been keeping company with more than just me.

Again, the mere thought of Edward with someone else makes my stomach rumble with uncertainty, as I make a mad dash to the bathroom down the hall.


If you'd like to join in on the fun, please join me on Facebook at Stories by OhGeeFantasy. I am having a pic made of the giant pyramid Edward has erected on Bella's dresser. Codes Twiwifelife is creating that masterpiece for me. Thanks babyface! Also. I'll keep posting teasers from upcoming chapters.