Old Soul

Chapter Eleven: When Worlds Collide

When I wake up the next morning, the day is overcast, clouds covering all traces of the sunlight from yesterday. I check my phone, no messages. I feel terrible, emotionally and physically.

Emotionally, I feel like someone drained me. I wince at the thought, as it conjures up images, no, memories of Emmett murdering past versions of me. Physically, I'm exhausted. I spent the night tossing and turning, terrified by the threat of possible memories resurfacing. I brush my teeth, fix my hair and go down to the kitchen. My dad is drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. The top story's headline is about some animal attacks that got close to Forks. After I grab my poptart, I attempt to retreat back into my room, but my dad clears his throat. I wince and turn around.

"Pop a squat, Quel. Let's talk." My dad's voice is gruff but gentle. I obey, snagging the seat across from him.

"What's up?" I ask, my voice hoarse.

"How are things?" He's deliberately casual with his words, but his eyes bore into me in what I like to call "the private investigator stare."

"Fine. How's it going at the office?"

"Good. Your mom told me about some guy, Emery or whatever."

I stifle a laugh. "Emmett? What about him?"

"Just that you two were getting very close. And that you were being cagey about him." My dad shrugs.

"We're—" I pause. What are we, exactly? We sure as hell aren't dating. We were friends, until I found out he's quite literally murdered me before. Carlisle says we're soulmates, but me? I say, "friends. It's a little complicated."

There's no need for me to start airing my own dirty laundry. I don't want my dad to worry that I've completely lost it and try to move us all again. The idea of moving sends a painful pang through every nerve in my body. I've created a life here that makes me happy. Bella, Angela, and Jess's smiling faces flicker in my head, followed by the uninvited image of Emmett, eyes crinkled with laughter. As pissed as I am at him, I feel as though leaving would hurt even more.

"Well, there's nothing of note in his background." My dad throws out flippantly, oblivious to my emotions churning inside my thoughts.

"You looked into his background? Isn't that illegal?" I look at my dad slack-jawed. Of course, I never expected him to find anything, the Cullens seem pretty adept at covering their tracks, let alone for him to find that I was killed by one of them, multiple times at that. But for him to do a background check in the first place? Unbelievable.

"Raquel," He says patiently. "I am a private investigator. And besides, after last time, can you blame me for being a smidge more protective?"

He's right. I can't blame him for wanting what's best for me.

"Regardless, I don't like the idea of you scrutinizing every person who comes into my life. Please don't do it again unless someone does something sketchy." I take my leave with that, my bad mood worsened by the exchange.

As I angrily munch on my PopTart, I work on finishing the rest of the Spanish project. Emmett sent me his portion at three in the morning, what he was doing awake at that hour I have no earthly idea. After completing it, I sit at my desk, staring off into space, deep in thought yet again. Was it really only yesterday that I felt like what Emmett and I had was bordering on becoming more romantic, the culmination of our relationship building every time we were together?

It's in this daze that I remember something Emmett did that was nagging me. I head back into the room that serves as my mom's office. Her sleek oak desk faces the door, and she looks up when I come in.