Chapter 17

Thursday’s eight-hour shift at University Book Store prompted Bella to come to the conclusion that she vastly preferred running the cash register to bagging textbooks.

At least operating the register required some conscious thought and attention, even though the scanner did most of the work. But bagging textbooks was a mindless task, asking nothing more of her than a little physical labor and perhaps a sympathetic smile at the shell-shocked customers who had just coughed up enough cash for a down payment on a car.

It left her too much time to think.

So as soon as her register partner grew weary of bagging and wanted to switch places, Bella braced herself for the onslaught of thoughts sure to invade her brain, chief among them:

Who is Emily?

This was the question first and foremost in her mind. The one that nagged; the one that would not be silenced. Her first assumptions were ones she could live with. “Sister” was a good answer. She liked that one. “Mom” or “aunt” were both good, too. “Sweet little old granny” was even better. But the more she wondered, the crazier her guesses got. The trickier possibilities stabbed like darts when they attacked: Girlfriend. Daughter.

Wife.

She shuddered once more at her worst fear. She could maybe handle the idea of Edward as a father, even if she herself was nowhere near ready for motherhood. But the thought of him going home at night to a lover or wife. . . No, she couldn’t go there.

What woman could? Bella consoled herself with the knowledge that very few girls would be capable of having a serious relationship with a man who sold himself to other women for money. But that was cold comfort when it led her to the next logical question: Could she do it?

No matter how much she liked him, no matter how amazing he made her feel when she was with him, could she actually accept his profession? She was afraid she already knew the answer. The black hole that had swallowed her insides when she read all those names in his appointment book made it quite clear where she, herself, stood on the matter.

So it was with an air of hopeless resignation that she showed up this morning at the women’s free clinic for a gynecological exam.

She had made the appointment two days ago, when she awoke to find that she still felt a bit sore between her legs. That couldn’t be normal, could it? She had panicked slightly and thought she should get it checked out, even though Edward had used a condom. What about those brief moments that he hadn’t? Could she have caught something from him? No matter how careful he was with the others, how could she be sure?

So she’d decided to get examined and tested - it was the smart thing to do. But it hadn’t make the experience any easier. After all, this was her first gynecological exam. She was grateful the doctor was female, so that her humiliation at assuming the spread-eagle position in the stirrups was lessened as much as possible. However, her humiliation at her prognosis was a little harder to take.

The doctor, of course, didn’t see it that way. She was practically chipper when, after her initial gloved inspection, she explained that she would need to use a special, smaller apparatus to perform Bella’s pap test. The gynecologist’s words echoed in her head now, while she jammed more behemoth textbooks into UBS-monogrammed plastic bags.

“Well, it is evident that you only recently lost your virginity. Your vaginal opening is still fairly narrow. I’ll use a different speculum on you so as to minimize your discomfort, okay?”

The physician left the exam room briefly, while Bella stared at the clear, Lucite vaginal spreader and jumbo tube of lubricant on the counter next to the exam table. The word “speculum” made a small shudder run through her body. When the doctor returned, she waved a long, narrow, silver contraption briefly at Bella before grabbing the jumbo lube and disappearing behind the paper sheet covering Bella’s privates.

“Now, try to relax so that I can insert the speculum comfortably. You shouldn’t feel any pain, just a small pinch when I take the sample. I’ll make this as quick as possible.”

Bella folded her hands tightly together, squeezed her eyes shut and heard the echo of Edward’s soothing voice in her ear. Relax . . . You know I won’t hurt you, don’t you?

“There, that’s excellent!” the doctor encouraged. “I’m almost done. You’re doing great, Bella.”

Great. She still couldn’t help but cringe. She just wanted it to be over. And she wanted the doctor to tell her she was normal, not that her vagina was too small for her to ever have great sex, which was the horrible idea now expanding like a balloon in her brain.

After another brief bout of poking and prodding, the gynecologist announced that she was done, but that she’d be back in a few minutes to discuss the exam. Bella breathed a sigh of relief as the doctor exited the room. She cleaned herself up with some tissues, got dressed, and then waited in the faux leather patient chair for the physician to return.

Doctor Roberts was her name, though she had encouraged Bella to call her “Lindsay.” She was blonde and pert and made Bella feel vaguely uncomfortable, even though she was clearly aiming at warm and friendly. Maybe it was because Lindsay looked like the type of woman who’d never had any trouble having great sex, and would go home to enjoy some tonight with her no-doubt handsome, virile husband.

Doctor Roberts knocked softly before re-entering the room and sitting on a stool at the foot of the exam table. She smiled down at her patient, then proceeded to tell her that everything looked fine, and they would have the results of her lab work in a few days.

“Do you have any questions?” she added, sounding the most sincere she had since Bella had walked through the door.

“Um, well, yeah,” Bella replied, taking a deep breath. “I guess I’m wondering why it took three days for me to stop feeling sore after my first time. And why you had to go get a special . . . instrument to use on me.” She bit her lip and looked worriedly up at the doctor. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“No! Not at all,” the blonde assured her emphatically. “You’re perfectly normal, Bella. You have no tipping of the uterus or any other physical issues that will prevent you from enjoying normal sexual activity. As I said, your vaginal opening is rather narrow, but that doesn’t mean it will remain that way. Vaginas come in slightly varying shapes and sizes, but they all have one thing in common: they were made to expand and accommodate a penis entering them, and a baby exiting them. During arousal, the vagina expands and lengthens in preparation for intercourse.

“Some girls are lucky to have a relatively easy time adjusting to sex, while others require a little more time before their bodies get used to it,” she went on. “There’s no reason to believe that, after a bit more experience, you won’t enjoy a fully satisfying sex life.”

“So . . . you’re telling me that basically, I just need to have more sex and everything will be fine?” Bella asked hesitantly.

“Only if that’s what you want, and you’re ready for it,” Doctor Roberts said, scooting the roller stool closer to Bella’s chair. “A boyfriend who cares about you will be patient with you while you adjust to having intercourse with him. If he’s not, I think you have to ask yourself if he’s the right one for you.”

Bella nodded and her eyes fell. “So there’s no other way to, sort of, get myself ready for sex again? It just has to hurt until it doesn’t hurt anymore?”

The doctor smiled sympathetically. “Well, there is something you can do on your own. I might be able help you. I’ll be right back.”

After she left the room, Bella wondered with renewed dread what devices Lindsay might bring into the room with her. Would a free clinic distribute sex toys for women to practice with?

She soon had her answer. Doctor Roberts returned carrying a discreet, pale-pink plastic bag. She settled on the stool again and withdrew the bag’s contents, showing them to Bella. In her hand, she held four clear plastic cylindrical tubes, rounded at one end, and graduating in girth and length from tampon-sized to penis-sized.

“These syringes are pretty much exactly what they look like,” the doctor said with a small smile. “Practicing with these can help you gradually accommodate a larger penetration into your vagina. Begin with the smallest one until it feels comfortable upon insertion, then move up to the next size, and so on. Experimenting with these may help you enjoy your next sexual experience a little more. Just be sure you use plenty of personal lubricant with them, which I’ve also included,” she added, dropping the plastic tubes into the bag and handing it to Bella.

She peered into the bag to see her very own jumbo tube of lube, buried under the strange assortment of medically-issued dildos. She didn’t know what to say. Was she really supposed to masturbate with these things? Would they help? She felt her face redden. Why was sex turning out to be so complicated? Why couldn’t it just be hot and romantic, like in books and movies?

“Oh, and while I’m on the subject of lubricant: the lack of it may be the reason your genitals were raw for a couple of days after your first time,” Doctor Roberts continued in her bizarre, bubbly tone. “Make sure your boyfriend takes the time for foreplay, since sexual arousal is required for you to produce sufficient vaginal fluid for intercourse to be comfortable. Also, many girls find the latex in condoms to be rather chafing at first, and the friction from intercourse can dry out your own vaginal moisture. That’s why some varieties of condoms contain lubricant. Make sure you use plenty of it the next time you have intercourse using a condom. And I don’t need to remind you of the importance of your partner wearing one every single time, do I?”

Bella shook her head. “No, I’m fully aware of all the possible consequences,” she replied dully. A litany of STDs she could contract flitted through her head, not to mention the specter of unwanted pregnancy. She thanked Doctor Roberts, then shoved the pink plastic baggie full of her own sexual inadequacy into her backpack.

By the time she’d left the clinic and climbed in her truck to come to work, she no longer wondered why it had taken her so long to have sex. Instead, she wondered what it would take for her to ever want to have it again. The whole ordeal seemed like more trouble than it was worth, especially if Edward wasn’t going to be the one patiently waiting until her vagina started acting like an adult.

Or would he? She was afraid to even entertain the thought, but he had arranged to see her tomorrow, after all. He’d even sounded excited about it. And she had been, too, until this morning’s wet blanket had been thrown over her feelings about sex and, by extension, the male species in general.

But Edward was different. She already knew he was the one who could change her mind about everything on a dime. Who else would have her questioning whether or not she could seriously date a gigolo? She figured that the minute she saw him tomorrow, her joints would turn to jell-o and she’d completely forget about his occupation, or the notion of giving up on sex. How could she, after the amazing things he’d done to her?

She shivered now at the memories, and a tiny throb began to pulse between her legs. She blushed a little and tried to clear her head while she stuffed more book bags, smiling vacantly at her fellow students and their parents as they left the store. Now was not the time or place to think about that long, pink tongue swirling up and down her pussy before plunging into her too-tight orifice. Nor was it appropriate to remember how his nimble fingers had managed to work their way deep inside her anyway, making her come all over them like she’d never come before, her entire body quivering uncontrollably as if his hand were an electrical plug drawing voltage from an outlet.

“Bella? Bella Swan! Look at you! You look great,” a loud exclamation interrupted her sensual reverie. Her face flooded with heat as her eyes darted up to see the next person in line at her register. She soon let out a laugh of embarrassed relief when she realized who it was.

“Hey, Mike!” She greeted her former boyfriend with a weak smile. “What are you doing here?”

He leaned in to give her a brief but warm hug before answering. “I transferred from community college this year, remember? I’m sure my mom never shut up about it all summer,” he added a bit apologetically. “I missed working at the store with you. Hope she didn’t drive you crazy.”

“No, not at all. Your mom’s great. Both your parents are,” she told him. She’d worked for them at Newton’s Sporting Goods the past three summers. Ironically, those earnings were the reason she’d been able to hire Edward Cullen to accomplish what Mike Newton had not. “We missed you, too, but I have to admit I liked getting all your hours. I made some great money.”

Mike let out a good-natured laugh. “I’ll bet you did.”

She looked up into his bright blue eyes and realized it was actually nice to see a familiar face here in Seattle. “So how was the forestry internship in Alaska? Your mom read me some of your texts and emails - sounds like it was pretty cool.”

“It was awesome. I loved it. I learned more on the job there than I ever could in school,” he enthused. “But it inspired me to want to get my degree in horticulture and forestry management. So, here I am,” he said with a lofty wave at the bookstore, “in the hallowed halls of U-Dub.”

Bella laughed as she began shoving his recently purchased biochem and other required texts into UBS bags. “Well, I don’t know how hallowed the bookstore is, but it’s good to see you. I think you’ll like it here. It’s fun - there’s a lot to do.” She listened to herself and wondered when she’d become a U-Dub recruiter.

“I hear the parties are legendary,” he said with a grin. “I’m sorry I missed that big bash down by La Push a couple weeks back, though,” he added. “I heard that one raged all night. I’m surprised your dad and his cronies didn’t come shut it down.”

Bella winced at the memory. “Out of my dad’s jurisdiction,” she said with a dismissive shrug. “You didn’t miss much. The usual drink ‘til you drop fiesta.”

In fact, she was glad he wasn’t there. The last thing she needed was Mike joining Jake in singing the “Bella-won’t-put-out” blues. But as she looked up at her high school ex now, she had the feeling that he wouldn’t have done that. His summer in the mountains had changed him somehow. He was tanned, his sun-streaked blond hair was cropped close, his shoulders were broader. He didn’t quite seem like the goofy, wise-cracking kid she’d left behind last year when they went to different schools. He’d grown up.

And so had she, she hoped.

“Here, let me help you,” Mike offered, picking up his own textbooks while she held the bag open for him.

“Thanks,” she said, glad for the brief reprieve.

“Your arms must get a workout in this place.”

“Yeah, this time of year, they do. That’s why we switch off,” she said, nodding to her partner, who was already ringing up the next customer.

“So are you living in the dorms, or an apartment?” he asked as he lifted his bags off the counter.

“The dorms still. I lucked into a single, if you can believe that. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they foist a roommate on me at some point.”

“A single? No way. I’m in McCarty, with a couple of guys who seem all right so far. I’m bracing myself for snoring and partying and God knows what all kinds of fuckery keeping me awake at night, though,” he said with a rueful chuckle.

“McCarty’s a decent dorm,” Bella assured him. “Easy access to the parties on Greek Row.” She knew that would be a plus for him. “I’m in McMahon, so I’m right off the quad, too.”

“Really? Cool. We’ll have to meet up and go get a burger or something. You can give me a tour of the campus,” Mike suggested eagerly.

A bit too eagerly, she thought. But she smiled and said, “Sure, I’d be happy to.”

He tried to wave by hefting one heavy bag in the air, then gave up and said, “See you, Bella,” before turning and leaving the store.

She returned to the monotony of her job, her mind now a jumble of thoughts about her past, present and future. She wasn’t sure how she felt about her failed first attempt at a relationship showing up in her life again. They had parted amicably, but she’d still been relieved to find she wouldn’t have to work with him this past summer. It was easier to just avoid that sort of awkwardness altogether. But now, here he was again, a flesh-and-blood reminder of her teenaged inadequacies.

But I’m past that now, she reminded herself. One night with Edward Cullen had already made her feel like she’d moved light years beyond the clumsy, clueless girl who’d repeatedly spurned Mike Newton’s tentative advances in the back seat of his dad’s Honda. And it wasn’t just about sex. Being with Edward made her feel like a grown-up -- a woman -- in ways she’d never expected.

But was she woman enough to handle who he really was? No, not who he was -- she saw through the chinks in his armor easily enough -- but what he was. What he did, and why he did it, was another story entirely. A story whose plot she wasn’t sure she could follow as long as he continued in his line of work, with the Laurens and Charlottes and Lindsays of the world.

And Emily.

She had to get to the bottom of Emily. As daunting as it would be to probe into Edward’s life, especially considering what his probable reaction would be, it was something she had to do. She needed some answers.

And tomorrow, Edward Cullen had better start talking.