The rest of the school day passed… surprisingly well.
Amara attended her classes like a normal, functioning human being.
Which, considering her life lately, was already an achievement.
She laughed with Jessica.
Shared quiet smiles with Angela.
Listened to Eric's random commentary.
Endured Mike trying to be helpful in ways no one asked for.
It was light.
Easy.
Normal.
Almost too normal.
Except—
There was one thing.
One very noticeable thing.
Bella.
Bella was… missing.
Not physically.
Technically she was in school.
But every time Amara looked—
There she was.
With Edward.
Walking together.
Sitting together.
Talking together.
Breathing the same air like oxygen was a couple activity now.
It was like they had been glued together.
Superglued.
Industrial-strength, never-coming-apart glue.
Amara watched them once in the hallway.
Then again outside class.
Then again near the stairs.
And each time—
Her expression twisted slightly.
"…Ew," she muttered under her breath.
At one point Jessica followed her gaze and whispered, "They're… intense."
"Unnecessarily," Amara replied flatly.
By the end of the day, Amara had stopped looking.
For her own peace.
For her sanity.
For the safety of Edward Cullen's continued existence.
Finally—
School ended.
Freedom.
Amara slid into her Audi A4 like it was a sanctuary.
Her safe space.
Her emotional support vehicle.
The engine purred to life smoothly, like it understood her struggles.
"Good," she murmured, adjusting her hands on the wheel. "At least you behave."
She pulled out of the parking lot, the movement clean and effortless.
A song played softly on the radio.
Some early 2000s track.
The kind that sounded familiar even if you didn't know the lyrics.
Amara hummed along anyway.
Completely wrong.
Completely confident.
"Mm-hmm—la la—something something—yeah…"
Her voice faded in and out as she drove.
She didn't care.
Her mood was good.
Light.
The drive helped.
The road stretched ahead, quiet and slightly damp, lined with tall trees that leaned inward like they were sharing secrets.
Fog clung lazily between the branches.
The sky was its usual soft grey.
And her car—
Her beautiful, reliable Audi—
Glided smoothly through it all.
No honking.
No chaos.
Just calm.
For a moment, it felt like everything had settled.
Like the morning had never happened.
Like Edward Cullen didn't exist.
Peace.
Then—
Her brain betrayed her.
Bella.
Edward.
Together.
All day.
Like they were attached at the soul.
Her grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.
"…Unbelievable," she muttered.
Her calm mood flickered.
Her blood heated just a little.
What was so fascinating about him anyway?
The dramatic staring?
The mysterious silence?
The emotional constipation?
She exhaled sharply.
"No," she told herself. "No. We are not doing this."
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
"Don't think about them."
Pause.
"…Stupid Edward."
She shook her head and forced her focus back to the road.
The trees.
The rhythm of the drive.
The soft hum of the engine.
Slowly, her mood settled again.
Not perfect.
But better.
Manageable.
By the time she reached the Swan residence, the sky had grown slightly darker.
Early evening settling in.
She parked her Audi neatly in its usual spot.
Turned off the engine.
Silence.
Peace again.
She stepped out, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
Her eyes scanned the driveway automatically.
No police car.
So Charlie wasn't home yet.
But—
Bella's truck was there.
Of course it was.
Edward had come to pick her up this morning like some overdramatic chauffeur, so naturally the truck hadn't moved.
Amara paused for half a second, staring at it.
"…Constipated emo boy," she muttered under her breath, already walking past it.
No further thoughts.
No emotional investment.
Absolutely none.
She walked toward the front door, keys in hand.
Just as she reached it—
Her phone chimed.
A sharp, distinct notification sound.
Amara paused mid-step.
Pulled the phone out.
Squinted at the small screen.
Lucien.
She stared at the message notification for a second.
"…Nope."
She slid the phone back into her pocket.
"He can wait."
Priorities.
And right now?
Her priority was survival.
Emotional, physical, and possibly social.
She unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The house greeted her with quiet stillness.
Amara kicked off her shoes lightly and headed upstairs without investigating.
She had reached her limit for human interaction today.
Her room door opened.
And there it was.
Her bed.
Soft.
Perfect.
Inviting.
Calling her.
She stood there for a full three seconds just staring at it.
"…Don't look at me like that," she muttered.
The bed did not respond.
But it felt persuasive.
She took a step forward.
Then stopped.
"…No."
Responsibility.
Basic hygiene.
Society.
She sighed dramatically and dragged herself toward her closet instead.
Pulled out comfortable clothes.
Loose trousers.
Soft black t-shirt.
Peak emotional recovery outfit.
Then she headed to the bathroom.
The tiles were cool under her feet.
The mirror reflected her slightly tired but still composed face.
She turned on the shower.
Warm water began to run.
Steam slowly filled the space.
Amara leaned against the bathroom wall for a second, exhaling.
"Okay," she murmured softly.
No Edward.
No Bella drama.
No Lucien.
No chaos.
Just warmth.
Just quiet.
Just her.
And honestly?
That sounded perfect.
For now.
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