I'd had enough.

I'd gone without speaking to Jake for a month now. Mono didn't last a month, did it? And if it was just mono, why did Billy always sound so shifty on the rare occasion someone actually picked up the phone at the Blacks' house? I couldn't take it any more. The ragged hole in my chest hurt more and more with every day I spent without my best friend. Worse yet, the nightmares were starting to plague me twice and three times a night, and I dragged through my days feeling like I couldn't get enough rest.

By mid-afternoon on Sunday, I'd finished my homework, done all the laundry, the dishes, vaccuumed and dusted, and even (ick) cleaned the bathroom from top to bottom. As I stared down eight more bleak, empty hours of consciousness, I felt something overflow inside me. "Dad, I'm headed out to La Push!" I called, grabbing my truck keys and bouncing out the door to my truck. I felt strangely energetic, as though my aggravation and worry were fueling a battery that powered my limbs.

It was raining lightly as I hopped into my ancient Chevy and pulled out onto the highway. As I drove, the rain intensified into a squall that reduced visibility on the road to just a few feet. When I turned into Jake's street, the rain had let up some, but it was still bucketing. To my surprise, I saw a person walking out of the road and into Jake's backyard, dressed only in a pair of cutoffs and tennis shoes. I couldn't believe anyone could stand being out in the cold rain wearing so little. As I got closer, I suddenly recognized his profile.

"Jake?!" I yelled angrily as I stopped the truck and jumped out. "Hey!" He turned around and stopped, looking at me.

I looked him over, and was appalled to see the drastic changes in his appearance. His gorgeous, long raven's wing hair was gone, replaced by a cropped cut that made him look even older and harder than his height and physique did. He looked dehydrated, the veins and muscles standing out too prominently under his skin and the sweet roundness in his face almost gone. "You cut your hair?! And got a tattoo? I thought you were too sick to come outside, or pick up the phone when I call!"

"Go away." Jake's voice came out as hard and bitter as he looked.

The head of indignation I'd been building up all the way over here vanished, and I felt like the ground was about to fall out from under my feet. "What?" I asked him weakly.

"Go away," he coldly replied.

"What happened to you?" I asked. He started walking away, and I reached out to grab his arm. "Hey! What happened?" I said, my anger returning. He shrugged off my arm, but turned stiffly back to face me, his face robotic. "Did Sam get to you, is that what's happening?"

"Sam is trying to help me," he snarled. "Don't blame him. If you want someone to blame, how about those filthy bloodsuckers you love? The Cullens?"

I paused momentarily in shock. Jake used to believe that the legends were just fairy stories. Why had he suddenly decided to take them as gospel truth? "I don't know what you're talking about," I lied.

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about," he spat back at me. "You've been lying to everyone. Charlie. But you can't lie to me. Not anymore, Bella."

"Jacob!!!" a voice called from the treeline behind us. "Jacob!" I looked over Jacob's shoulder and saw Sam Uley beckoning, his cult flanking him on either side.

Jacob looked over at them, and when he turned his face back to me it was creased with pain. "Look, Bella, we can't be friends anymore."

"Jake, I know that I've been hurting you. It... it's killing me. It kills me. I need... maybe... give me some time or something," I pleaded.

"Don't," he cut me off. "It's not you."

"It's not you, it's me, right?" I asked sarcastically. "Really?"

"It's true," he said. "It is me. I'm not good. I used to be a good kid. Not anymore. This doesn't even matter, alright? This is over." Jake was leaning toward me, pressing his point, anger and despair clouding his expression.

"You can't break up with me," I blurted, then winced at what I'd just said. "I mean... you're my best friend." I was grasping at straws now. "You promised me."

"I know," he said. "I promised I wouldn't hurt you, Bella, and this is me keeping that promise. Go home and don't come back, or you're gonna get hurt." With that, he turned and loped off, disappearing into the dark woods, closest to Sam's right-hand side of all the followers.

I stood for a minute in the pouring rain, unable to feel the tears I knew were sliding down my face except where they pricked and irritated my eyes. I finally got back in my truck and drove slowly back home, the water from my hair and clothes pooling on the seat around me and settling icily in my shoes.

Charlie stared in horror as I listed dully through the front door. "Bella, what on earth happened to you? You look awful!" He suddenly noticed my red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks, and his expression turned hard. "Did you see Jacob?"

"He told me to go away and not come back. I'm going to bed," I answered, plodding up the steps and into the bathroom to change my clothes.

I switched out my jeans and long-sleeved shirt for my favorite ratty pajamas, and laid down in my bed. My brain felt like it had been replaced with feathers and cotton balls. Distantly, I could hear my father downstairs arguing with Billy Black about his son's treatment of me. "Don't you lay this on her!" Charlie shouted. "She made it clear right along that she and Jacob were just friends!" He paused to listen to a reply. "If you think I'm going to remind her about that, you've got another think coming. She was starting to come out of that depression, and mostly because of Jacob. If she goes back under, I'm holding him responsible for letting her down when she needed him most. Yeah, that's right." Another pause. "Well I've about had enough of your talk, Billy. I'm going to be keeping a close eye on those rez boys from here on out, and if I hear they've put so much as a toe out of line there'll be hell to pay. Goodbye." I heard the receiver slam back into the cradle, and a creeping, sick guilt began to pervade the fog in my head.

My fault, because I wasn't strong enough to carry my own pain. My fault for all the times I'd let Jake hug me and grab my hand. Behind my slowly leaking eyelids, I could see his old smile, his deep-set dark eyes sparkling with laughter and desire and his teeth sparkling white against his silky brown skin. I hadn't been fair to him, I knew it, and because of me he'd fallen prey to that sicko Sam Uley, who fed Jake lies about himself to undercut his self-esteem and keep him in line in his goddamn hall-monitor cult. Now his eyes were flat black, filled with rage and self-hatred, and his finely shaped lips sneered instead of smiling. The way he'd looked at me... I thought I was cried out, but a fresh wave of rejection and anger and anxiety rolled through me, forcing more tears out of my sore eyes.

I thought of the night I'd met Jake again at First Beach. I remembered how I'd flirted shamelessly with him to trick him out of his stories, like the lamest Mata Hari imitator of all time. I remembered the way his slim chest had puffed out when I flattered him, how he'd smiled with excitement and interest as I acted as pathetic and ditzy as I could to allure him. I longed for that sweet, shy boy I used to know, hidden under a massive layer of thick muscle and cynical defensiveness. Sam was fighting with all his power to push Jake down. How hard was I willing to fight back to save Jake from Sam's clutches?


A/N: Most of the dialogue in this chapter comes from the movie and the book. It gets better, I promise T_T