trouble | i.g

eleven - "fake waiter"

Bella's POV

"So I'll pick you up at six then?"

I pulled the phone away from my ear for a moment, staring at the receiver in dismay. Bringing my hand up to my mouth, I chewed on the back of my knuckle- a nervous habit.

"Sure." I finally said, my voice lacking any enthusiasm. I tried again. "That sounds great."

I could practically hear Scott's smile through the phone. "See you soon."

Hanging up quickly, I threw the phone down onto the rug and rolled over onto my stomach, burying my face into my pillow and groaning loudly. My shouts were muffled by the fabric, but still did nothing to make me feel better.

I had agreed, rather reluctantly, to go on a date with Scott. Because I was normal and he was normal too, so it only made sense that two normal people be together and go on normal dates. I was tricking myself by hanging around with Ian. He was different and interesting and I tried to believe that I was too.

But it was just one big facade, and I was embarrassing myself. He needed some bad ass girl with her hair dyed pink, who liked being touched and didn't suffer from panic attacks in crowded places. And I needed someone who wouldn't tie balloons to me and force me into situations where I'd punch people in the face. Besides, I had been avoiding him for the past couple days, after punching his friend in the face. Ian said I would be fine, that he wouldn't bother me, but I screwed up. I kept screwing up, and it needed to stop.

"You look nice." My mom commented, peering at me from over the book she was reading when I clomped down the stairs, "Going out?"

"With a boy." I replied. A look of concern immediately crossed her face.

"Not with that Ian kid, right?" She asked sharply, red lips bunching in distaste. "I told you to stay away from that boy. He's nothing but trouble. Why can't he keep his hair a normal color? His parents really ought to discipline him. Maybe put gloves on him to cover his tattoo."

I sighed, pressing my forehead against the front window as I waited for my ride. My breath fogged the glass over, hiding my expression. At the sound of her words, my cheeks burned, blood boiling with the unknown urge to defend him.

"You know what, mom?" I declared, annoyance evident in my voice, "I know you want everyone to be a carbon copy of you, but this is south side and it's fine to be a little different. Also in fact- I rather like his tattoo and red is his natural hair color."

•••

"You look very pretty tonight, Bella." Scott said, smiling at me from across the table top. We were seated in the corner of a small noodle restaurant in town, a tiny candle flickering between us. Eerily cheesy and oddly romantic for a first date. I wanted to leave.

"Thanks." I said slowly, struggling with a reply. "So do you." I mentally smacked myself in the forehead when I saw his smile falter.

Scrambling to fix the problem, I stammered. "I mean, you don't look pretty. You look uh- nice, in a male way. How guys look pretty."

Scott was nice, no doubt about it, the typical nice guy that parents would want their daughters to date. But he lacked personality and spoke in the same monotone voice that made me want to rip my hair out. The night so far had been polite small talk and me discreetly checking the clock. And I kept feeling overwhelming guilt about Ian. Sure, we weren't officially dating but it felt like cheating.

"Are you two ready to order?"

I glanced up at the waitress who had appeared beside our table, giving him a polite smile as he stood poised with a pen on a tiny notepad. And then I did a double take.