This is probably going to end up being a collection of misfit missing moments that I don't necessarily want attached to the original stories for some weird, dumb reason or another. Please read the pairings and warnings so you know what you're getting into. Starting things off big, with a birthday request for Iris. And what better day is there than 4/20 to drop a missing scene from The Give Away Girl? But like I said, check the pairing on this.
Story: The Give Away Girl
Timeline: After chapter 20 of TGAG, before part 1 of Wicked Game
Warning: You might hate me for this one.
You call me a dog
Well that's fair enough
'Cause it ain't no use
to pretend you're wrong
(Call Me a Dog – Temple of the Dog)
Edward stood at the end of his grandparents' driveway, watching the taillights of his mother's car grow distant and then disappear. Running away from home had done wonders for Bella. It was his turn.
He told himself that being away from the Port would help him forget, at least for a little while. And he sure as hell didn't want to be home on New Year's Eve. A nice little vacation with his grandparents in Seattle would be a good distraction, something to keep him busy.
Or so he thought.
By 7:00, his grandfather was snoring in his recliner, and his grandma was engrossed in a detailedarticle about why it was necessary to use cold water when making pie crusts. Edward was bored to tears. He killed some time shooting hoops out by the garage. Then he took out the trash and fed their cat.
And that was how he ended his Christmas in Seattle—alone and bored.
He hooked up his Sega the next day and gamed from lunchtime until dark. Then the phone rang. His grandmother called out that it was for him, and he lifted the receiver on the bedside table in their spare room.
"I'm picking you up in twenty minutes," his buddy Randall said. "Party time."
Edward almost said no, but he hadn't seen Randall in over a year, and there was bound to be booze and maybe some blow at any party Randall would go to. "All right."
He tossed the controller on the bed, stood, and stretched. It had been a few days since he'd showered, so he ran his body under some hot water and soap. Since it was cold out, he grabbed the bulky cream-colored sweater his grandmother had given him for Christmas and pulled it over an STP t-shirt. He left his contacts swimming in solution next to the bathroom sink and opted for glasses for the first time in months.
It's how everyone knew him here, anyway.
His grandparents were sitting in matching recliners in the den, laughing and watching America's Funniest Home Videos. He eased down onto the arm of his grandma's chair.
"The sweater looks good on you," she said, nodding her head in approval.
"It's warm," he replied. "Hey, Grandma, is it okay if I hang out with Randall for a while? You remember him… Played outfield in middle school…?"
She nodded. "I remember. I think that's fine. What time will you be back?"
The clock on the wall behind the television ticked over to 7:15. He shrugged. "Not late. Midnight?"
"Be careful," his grandpa said.
Randall's car pulled into the driveway at the exact moment Edward closed the front door behind him. A sharp breeze hit him, and he shoved his hands into his pockets for warmth as he made his way across the yard.
Randall pushed the car door open from the inside, and a dirt weed-scented cloud hit Edward square in the face. He waved a hand in front him and then slid into the passenger seat.
"Whose party?" Edward asked as he buckled his seatbelt.
"Tia's parents left this afternoon to go skiing with some friends in Colorado."
Randall laughed. "Don't be like that. Maggie told her it's cool if you come."
"So I guess Tia still hates me."
"You know how girls are. You hurt one, you hurt her friends, too."
Edward laughed out loud—a real, long, and hearty laugh. Oh, yeah. He knew all about that. "Tell me about it," he said, rubbing his side and remembering the jolt of pain that comes with a 75-miles-per-hour fastball in the ribs.
"I wasn't going to ask, but…"
Edward shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it, man. That shit's still too fresh."
"Damn. What's it been, like, six… seven months?"
"Yeah." Edward stared out the window at the houses blurring by. "It's complicated."
"Dude, uncomplicate it. Get drunk. Get laid. Get over it."
"That's your advice?" Edward laughed again.
"Yeah." Randall nodded and pulled into a gas station. "It is. You want anything?"
"Nah. I'm good."
Randall left the car running for his friend so Edward could listen to an Alice in Chains"rock block" on some local indie station while he watched his buddy make his way down the aisles of the convenience store. Some girl with long brown hair hiding her face walked out with a peach Clearly Canadian in her hand, and Edward had to do a double-take to make sure it wasn't her.
Not that Bella would have any reason to be wandering around Edward's former stomping grounds in a city she hadn't been to since she was a little girl. But still. Looking out for her was second nature, a habit he desperately needed to break.
Randall was right.
Edward took the half-smoked joint from the ashtray and lifted it to his lips. He picked up Randall's lighter and lit the blackened end. He inhaled too deeply for a dude who'd been avoiding weed like it was the plague for half a year and ended up in a coughing fit that made his eyes water until tears streamed down his face.
That's how Randall found him. Of course.
His friend leaned into the car and handed Edward an unopened bottle of Coke. "Here, dude. Got this for you, anyway. Looks like you need it." He laughed and got into the car.
"Fuck off." Edward got his breathing under control and rolled down the window before taking a second, shorter hit. "I'm good," he croaked, holding it in until he couldn't anymore. He blew a trail of smoke out the window as Randall turned onto the road.
"Well, pass that shit, bro."
There was a tiny roach left by the time they pulled to a stop in front of a big house with a shitton of cars parked in the yard, driveway, and all the way down both sides of the street.
"Damn," Edward muttered. He stayed put, gathering his thoughts and sifting through the haze as it settled in his head. "That's a lot of people."
"Same old crowd," Randall said with a laugh. "You ready?"
Edward knew there was no way it could be worse than a PA party, so he nodded and tugged at the door handle. "I told you I'm good, man."
They were greeted in the front yard by a small group of guys they used to play ball with through the years. There were fist bumps and shoulder checks. Someone shoved a clear plastic glass filled with beer into Edward's hand before he even made it to the front porch.
It was cheap and nasty, but he drank it anyway and followed Randall into Tia's house. Some fucking Sundays song was blasting on the radio, and damn if it wasn't the one Bella used to listen to while studying.
Edward downed the rest of his beer in one gulp.
"That's what I'm talking about," Randall said, slapping him on the back. He plucked a long neck from a cooler on the ground and handed it to Edward. "Have another."
The song ended, and someone switched out the CD to some techno garbage Edward liked much better because it didn't make him think of anything or anyone. It didn't hurt that every girl in the vicinity started swaying and dancing to the beat.
"Well, well…" A familiar female voice trailed off behind him. "If it isn't my long-lost boyfriend."
Edward turned around slowly and grinned. "Ex-boyfriend."
The redhead in front of him nodded and stared him down with a small smile playing on her lips. "That's right. I got the message you left on my parents' answering machine a week before school started. Classy." Apparently, enough time had passed that Maggie had forgiven him for being a young and stupid kid when he'd moved the year before.
"I'm sorry about that." He apologized anyway, because she deserved that much at least.
He could've argued that it wasn't, and part of him felt like he should, but the buzz made him lazy. And really, he'd had enough drama in the past year to last a lifetime.
"You look good," he said instead. It slipped out, but that didn't make it any less true. The last time he'd seen her, her hair was curly and she had thick bangs. Now, it was straight, one length, and touched her shoulders and her low-cut black sweater.
She smiled and moved closer so he could get a better look. "So do you." Her fingers brushed the stubble on his cheek. "This is new."
He shrugged. "Didn't feel like shaving."
"I like it." Her perfume was light and airy, something fruity that made him lean in closer.
A loud giggle broke up the reunion, and a tall girl with long, black hair tugged on Maggie's arm. "Come on, babe. Let's smoke this shit." She waved a tightly rolled joint in the air, laughing until she caught sight of Edward. "Oh, you came."
"Thanks for the invite, Tia," Edward said. "It's been a while."
She snorted. "I guess you found some nerve along with those muscles while you were in Port Angeles."
Tia's eyes narrowed. "Well," she said, holding up the weed. "Are you in or what?"
"In," Randall said. "We're definitely in."
They followed Tia through the house and out to an attached garage with a decent-sized heater blasting warm air in the corner. There were other kids Edward recognized from his old school but no one he'd been on speaking terms with. Most of them were smoking cigarettes or doobies of their own anyway, so he squeezed in between Maggie and Randall to avoid any awkward conversations.
Little by little, pass by pass, his shoulders sagged, and he sank into a comfortable debate with Randall about which album was better—Stone Temple Pilots' Core or Alice in Chains' Dirt. Maggie didn't say much. She didn't have to. She nodded every time Edward argued that Layne Staley was untouchable and brushed her side against his in reinforcement.
It was nice, easy.
And right after the third time he hit the joint, she slid her fingers over his and tugged him away from the others. "I'm thirsty," she said. "Let's get something to drink."
Edward smacked his dry lips and nodded in agreement. He followed her inside and to the kitchen, then leaned against the doorframe to watch her open the fridge.
"Beer, Sprite, or Diet Coke?" she asked. "Looks like that's all that's left."
"Sprite's fine." The combination of beer and weed was already lightening the foul mood he'd been in for half a year.
Maggie grabbed two cans of soda and closed the door, never taking her eyes off the boy eying her. "What?" she asked when she handed one over.
"I like your hair like this." Edward took the drink but then reached for a lock of her hair with his other hand. He stared at her lips and took a step closer.
She stood her ground, narrowing her eyes. "I heard you had a new girlfriend."
He swallowed and shook his head. "Not anymore."
It was exactly what she'd been waiting to hear. She lifted her face and brushed her lips over his. "That's fortunate."
He didn't answer, because he couldn't argue or even think straight once her tits pressed against his chest and her tongue teased his lips. She made it even harder to concentrate when she sighed and relaxed in his grip.
She wanted him. He could tell.
And it felt… good—good to be wanted, to be touched. Just good.
Way better than he'd felt in a long time.
"Come with me," she said against his lips, pushing him backward with a small, shy smile.
She led him up the stairs, down the hall, and into a room with a big canopy bed and Cure posters lining every inch of the walls. There was enough light from the windows to navigate the room after she closed and locked the door behind them.
His hands fumbled with the hem of her sweater, so she helped him. And when she was free of it, she reached behind her body to unhook her bra. Edward moaned when it fell to the ground. The girl had perfectly round tits, and her nipples hardened under his gaze. Her hands went to work on his belt, and he rewarded her by dipping his head to kiss every inch of her chest he could reach.
He didn't stop until she had him naked and pushed him down onto the bed. She lowered herself slowly on the floor in front of him. He watched her fingers wrap around his cock and closed his eyes when her tongue teased the tip.
"Fuck," he whispered, burying his fingers in her hair again as her mouth opened and she drew him in.
He tried not to think about the way Bella kissed his dick like it was candy, like it was the best thing that had ever been in her mouth. But it happened anyway, so he opened his eyes to stay in the moment.
Maggie worked him good, using her hand to take care of what she couldn't fit. His fingers tightened, and his hips pumped faster.
Her low grunt brought him back to reality, and he let go of her head immediately. She came up for air and kissed him on the mouth, climbing onto his lap. Wet flesh grazed the tip of his cock, and he froze. "I'm on the pill." She looked down and shifted, trying to take him in.
"Hang on." He shifted without moving her and reached for his jeans on the floor. When he found the condom, she took it from him and tore into it impatiently. She rolled it on slowly and ran her fist up and down the length of him a few times to make him feel good. "Ohhhh, shit."
She shifted her hips and lowered, and then it was heat, a warm girl, and the barest trace of coconut perfuming her skin. So much skin.
A hint of sunlight woke him from a dead sleep hours later. A used condom was dried to his thigh, and short red hair tickled his chin.
"Fuck." He whispered the word once out loud and then screamed it a dozen times inside his head.
Maggie groaned a little when he eased out from under her and rolled over onto her side with a soft sigh. He was frozen, waiting to see if it was safe to move. After a minute or two of silence, he figured it was.
His clothes and hers were tangled in the same pile, and he prayed she wouldn't wake while he sorted them and dressed as quietly as possible. She didn't.
And he knew it was shitty, but he slipped out of the room, closed the door behind him, and never looked back on his way down the stairs.
He was almost at the front door when Tia flicked a lighter from her spot on the couch. She blew out the flame, lit another, and then blew that one out too. "You motherfucker," she said.
"I have to get home. I'm in deep shit right now."
"Did you wake her up? At least tell her goodbye this time?"
Edward's chin dropped to his chest, and he paused with his hand on the knob. It was a dick move, but he opened the door and kept going. "Tell her I'm sorry."
He heard her growl of frustration from the porch just before she shouted, "Tell her yourself!"
Randall's car was missing from its spot on the street like he knew it would be.
It was 8:00 by the time he hopped buses and found one that would get him close enough to his grandparents' house to walk home, and when he finally got there, he was saying fuck again. Because Carlisle Cullen's car was parked in front of their house.
His parents were going to kill him.
A/N – I've missed y'all.