i just wanna try one thing (original) (raw)

okay, another present.

2 hours ago, me and jimmy decided to try something in gchat. and it sorta worked, but we've gotta finish it.

so, for your approval, erica- a new scotch outtake.

we'll post it when it's done. jimmy had to go to bed.

me: we gonna do this?
'cuz i'm all over it right this very second.
James: yes
me: k we got 2 hours
no editing
who's starting, you or me?
just write until you get stuck
then i'll go
James: no
you first
me: ha
okay
lemme crack open this coke
James: go
imma smoke
YOU MUST START
me: "back up off of me, you blowhole," i mumbled.
never again.
that's the last fucking time i let emmett convince me to drink vodka with a handle.
Sent at 6:39 PM on Tuesday
me: the asshole had to go and hide the scotch i kept at Bitch's house, and i had given up digging for the gold tal had hidden out behind the tool shed. he had some 50-year-old scotch or some such thing buried in the garden for emergencies, and we looked for it on lazy summer days like that fat kid in stand by me digging for his jar of pennies
.
Sent at 6:41 PM on Tuesday
me: "but i love you so," jasper said, his arms draped around me, leaning on my back for support as i tried to perch on the flimsy garden bench in the middle of the backyard.
"go away, J. mine," my lady said, and her cool fingers were in mine and the world stopped spinning for half a second... and then i was pretty sure i was gonna puke.
James: heh
Sent at 6:44 PM on Tuesday
me: "mine, mine, mine," bella continued, squeezing my hand with each mine, making my palms sweat a little more. she knew i wasn't no damned hand-holder, and this was generally her way of telling me i fucked up. i couldn't remember how, though. that probably meant i pressed my crotch against some chick's ass or snorted something i shouldn't've or-
"mine, and NOT that overly frosted, juicy couture jogging suit-clad Hale matron that has the bad taste to show her bra strap and-"
wait. no.
"wait. no."
"uhh, yeah, dude. i saw you." she dropped my hand, and i realized i was fucked.
but i was also very nauseated, so i'd have to use my words and tread very lightly.
me: i rewound my thoughts and promptly cut that shit out because it made me dizzier, and all i could come up with was talking to mrs. hale and comparing her legs to her daughter's... shit.
"shit."
"mm hmm." pouty lips swan next to me pretended to get all huffy, but the problem with doing that to the guy you've been fucking for 10 months and in love with for 12 is that i knew all her little sounds, sexy or not. she wasn't pissed. i was in the clear.
as long as i could remain free of any further incidents, of course.
Sent at 6:51 PM on Tuesday
me: "yo, fuckers," emmett said about three volumes too loud. i heard the clumps of grass being dislodged a he stomped over, and he clapped me on the back and put his sweaty face next to mine. i could smell marlboro reds and jaeger on his breath, and i was pretty sure the world would start spinning again. asswipe.
"don't call my lady a fucker, fucker," i slurred, leaning forward and inhaling grassy, dewy air. swiiiiirly swirl. the world is swirly.
"hey cullen, didja notice the Hale's tits flying outt that top? spring has sprung, yo! bella? bella, where you goin', girl?"
great.
k, your turn
Sent at 6:54 PM on Tuesday
James: The Hale mother/daughter tag team.
Yeah, i get it.
They're hot.
Really hot--and while i didn't mind Edward looking at other chicks--I mean, he's a guy, it's instinctive--what i did mind was that it was Rosalie Hale and the woman who birthed her.
Anyone but them.
Earlier in the night, Edward stared at Mitzi Stanley's ungirdled ass for ten minutes straight.
Whatever.
She's got a nice ass, i looked, too.
The point is, he's allowed to look at and appreciate chicks.
Just.
Not.
Them.
Sent at 7:00 PM on Tuesday
James: "Hey--heya, don'tcha leave me with Emmett. He wants ta put hydraulics on the Cadillac...I'm so hammered i might let him," Edward was saying, slow and drunk, coming up from behind me.
I kicked my shoes off and let my toes sink into the nighttime wet grass.
Sent at 7:02 PM on Tuesday
James: "I know yer not mad, and bella, im sofuckingdrunk can we just please...get to the point because i really need you to scratch my head and tuck me in."
"Isn't Mommy Dearest around tonight?" i asked, then, like, immediately regretted it.
I hadn't gone for that blow in months now.
"What the hell? Mommy jabs again...look, baby...what are we talking about again?"
James: I leaned down and scooped up my shoes with one hand, then turned around to face him.
"Bell, just listen...uh...huh. You're...sad?" he asked, then leaned in close and squinted, looking at my face.
Then he leaned in too much for him to handle, and i put my hand out, catching his chest before he just fell over.
"Hey. Hey you, baby," he said, and he kind of got this gentle, dazed look on his face and any kind of anger i had went away.
dammit
"Just...let's just get in the car, Edward," I sighed.
"No. Because, see, I can have you be mad, that happens all the time...but sad? I can't have you be sad."
I smiled, wide and fake at him.
"See? Not sad," I said.
"Now yer just a sad liar," he said, and he probably wanted it to be gentle, but he used his pointer finger to poke me in the lips.
Sent at 7:12 PM on Tuesday
James: "I don't like that you checked out Hale and Rosalie. Not because it makes me mad," I said.
"It's...it's not even like that...i do it out of duty. It's like...a habit i picked up from childhood," he said, waving a hand around.
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him blankly.
The top three buttons of his shirt had been undone and his tie was in the Whitlock pool.
Sent at 7:16 PM on Tuesday
James: His cuffs were rolled to his elbows and if i wanted to be really, really mean, i'd point out the cigarette burn on his armani pants.
Sent at 7:17 PM on Tuesday
James: I figured i'd save it for later and instead kept staring while he kept telling me how it was practically his civic duty to check out Team SkankBitch.
"You smell like shit," I finally said, cutting him off with a non relevant jab.
"It's fucking Old Spice."
"Whatever, Edward, yes, okay, I'm sad."
"Because of legs?"
"Yes, that's it, I'm sad because of legs," i said dryly.
"Cut the hookah off and find someone new!" Emmett shouted from across the yard, then laughed like mad at his own Biggie quote.
Edward put a finger to his lips and swayed in Emmetts direction, attempting to shush him.
"bella, you're legs...pssssh...you're legs are way better, baby. don't be sad--"
"I know my legs are better!" i snapped.
"Well, then what the fuck are you on about? Splain it."
James: "Rosalie...that girl, Edward, god! Look what she did to you. And to me! I can't even understand how you think she's attractive at all! And then, you're checking out her mother! Then back to Rosalie! And the whole time, Rosalie knew it! And who is standing there, looking like the humiliated asshole?"
"Uh. Me?"
"No, me!"
"You're not an asshole."
"Fuck. Edward. You just went and fed her ego, like, six tons of whatever really mean bitches eat. You just went and like, proved she was right."
"But she isn't right
"I know that!"
"Then nothing was proved--"
"In her mind it was," i retorted.
"Bell. I'm drunk and dumb right now, but i'm pretty sure what you're saying is dumb."
"It isn't."
"Yeah, no, it is," he said, shaking his head, like he was positive of something.
Then he stopped and stared at the ground for a second.
He put one finger up, signaling me to wait.
I sighed and his nausea passed after a few seconds.
"Can we go now that i'm a sad, dumb liar?" i said.
"I didn't say any of those things...fuck! We need to not have this converstation."
"Converstation?"
"Shuttup"
"Im asking you to not do that again. Okay? Can we just agree on that?" I said, tired and ready to just be done with the night.
"yeah, yeah...but bell...don't be sad. Not because of me."
"Right."
Sent at 7:32 PM on Tuesday
James: he walked two steps closer, and i didn't stand a chance, because his eyes were swimming and floating, he DID smell like Old Spice and vodka, and he put his fingers in the corners of my mouth, and attempted to pull my lips into a smile.
I swatted at his hands and he laughed, this low gutteral sound, and i let him pull me close, though i was the one supporting us.
I palms splayed out on his shoulderblades and he cupped my neck and looked down at me.
Then somewhere off to the distant left.
"Hale!" he shouted suddenly and loud.
I groaned and let my forehead flop on his chest.
"Your legs look like fucking tree trunks. I can tell you ate salt yesterday," he shouted.
My fingers bunched in his shirt and I shook my head.
"Tell your mom to call my dad about the cankle situation, he can help," Edward went on, calling across the yard.
"Stop it," i said into his shirt.
"yeah, but i meant it...about the salt anyway..."
"I just....Edward. I think i have to resign myself to the fact that even when being sweet, you're always a prick."
"Yeah...it's really prolly best if you do that now," he agreed.
"Just not them anymore, okay? It just...it's personal to me."
I felt his hot breath on top of my head, and we were swaying, i didn't know if he was falling over or we were dancing, but either way, i let him.
Sent at 7:40 PM on Tuesday
James: "Bella...you know i just...saw the legs. Didn't mean it to...I didn't think."
"I know. But. Now you know."
"Yeah....and hey...can we not let Blaine McCarty look down your shirt anymore?"
"It gives him a thrill," I shrugged. "He only sees bra anyway."
"Yeah, just don't."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Sent at 7:42 PM on Tuesday
me: used to be that the thought of putting myself above the wants/needs of some girl made me vomit.
now it was just cheap grocery store vodka.
Sent at 7:44 PM on Tuesday
me: well, that and the sitch at home. here we were, middle of summer, about to hit the college scene, and i found myself in the middle of a bitter divorce.
Sent at 7:45 PM on Tuesday
me: usually, the good doctor just waited until they cheated on him, thusly making the prenup null and void. and natch, mommy didn't disappoint. but i was kind of pissed about it, because i doubted any stepmother i ever had would provide the good times that tanya had given us, and i was a little mad at my father for it.
to make matters worse, she was still living on the property, but she was pulling the ultimate golddigger's cheap shot and trying to seduce her soon-to-be-ex stepson.
i hadn't exactly told bella this yet, and i sure as hell wasn't going to now. not with this hale business ruining a perfectly good evening at casa de whitlock.
Sent at 7:47 PM on Tuesday
me: "come on, you," bella breathed into my ear, bringing another pinprick of clarity to my grain alcohol-soaked brain. i fucking love you. i think i mumbled that out loud, maybe to bella. could've been jasper, but hell. even that was true. fuck. i hate being this drunk when i'm not concurrently stoned. ha. only edward cullen would think the word concurrently when sickdrunk.
Sent at 7:49 PM on Tuesday
me: "i drive," i sighed, because bella might be the reason i woke up most days, but she sure as fuck was not going to be able to back the cadillac outta my spot on the lawn. bella scowled at me and stuck both hands in my pockets, fishing for the keys. i let her because hell, just because i let her touch my dick regularly, doesn't mean i can't enjoy cheap thrill where i can get them.
thrills
James: keep going
brbr
me: brb smoking
me: i must've had a lazy, sloppy grin on my face because i heard jasper call out, "get a room, bitches," and before i could respond, bella had withdrawn her hands and jangled my keys right in my face. she planted a kiss on my chin and grabbed my hand, dragging me off toward the gate.
Sent at 7:59 PM on Tuesday
me: "you need to get in your bed, and so do i," she said over her shoulder, and i started praying for sobriety because fuck yeah, i was worried for a moment there that she wouldn't let me put it in her for the hale ogling fiasco.
Sent at 8:00 PM on Tuesday
me: i tried like hell to put myself in the car, but she had to buckle me in, her hair brushing under my nose as she leaned over me, smelling like that target shampoo and smoke and grass- i vaguely remembered she and jasper laying on the lawn and wishing on stars or some shit like that. i reached out and pushed her hair behind her ear with my thumb and she turned to face me, beaming and lovely and my bella again. a soft kiss, "mm. mm hmm," and then we were off. i rested my elbow on the center console, sort of leaning toward her and sort of needing the support as i tried not to think of her driving my vehicle as we raced back to the house.
"hey, edward?"
"hmm?"
"love me?"
"yup."
"more than scotch?"
"yup."
"more than... that blingy money clip emmett got you from l'il wayne's jeweler?"
"yup."
"more than those marc jacobs loafers and... and esme's grilled cheese sammiches?"
"yup and yup."
"wow. more than..." we were pulling into my driveway. "...hmm." she was tapping her lip, pouting and looking like she was really trying to come up with something i could possibly love more than her. silly girl. didn't she know by now? gees.
"woman, i love you even more than this car, but please be gentle."
"with you, or the car?" craaaank the gear. i flinched and she saw it. she frowned and started to open her mouth so i did what edward cullen does best.
Sent at 8:07 PM on Tuesday
me: i put my hand on her thigh and splayed my fingers out, messing with the hem and i suddenly felt hella fucking sober. she looked down and i drummed to the tune of some new hipster song playing on the radio that i didn't hate, inching up and lifting the hem of the denim more and more.
Sent at 8:09 PM on Tuesday
me: "both, please," i whispered, and this time she flinched because i was right by her ear, and i could see by the way her neck muscles clenched and the way her nipples were suddenly quite noticeable that she was going to say "you know what that does to me," but she didn't say it because we were way too far along to have to say shit like that out loud and all i really wanted or needed was to get the hell out of these plush seats because cadillac and all automobile makers were really shortsighted when they stopped putting bench seats in cars because bucket seats do not facilitate good car sex and well i guess that would've pissed me off because i hate getting shit on the leather but then her cold hand jolted me out of the sex/vodka haze as she lifted my fingers off her leg and put my hand in my lap, not helping not helping because i touched my own dick and just... "let's go fuck, please."
me: "such a gentleman," she laughed, her light bouncing laugh-light or that's the car door opening but whatever, i could listen to that laugh forever and i probably would so i opened the door and stretched my legs, sucking in the earthy night and feeling it in my toes, in my bones and in my boner as i stepped onto the crunchy gravel. bella had purposefully parked like, a million miles away from the actual driveway and she was giggling as she skipped to the door, my chick-ogling forgotten because this girl was just like me- ready to drop everything when the promise of sex was on the table.
Sent at 8:14 PM on Tuesday
me: i easily caught up to her as she stepped onto the porch, grabbing her hips and jerking her to a halt. yup, totally sober now. good. i hated not completely remembering fucking her- stupid, i know, but what can i say? i'm just a sentimental guy.