I.

"Stop." Sam almost breathed the word so Emily wouldn't hear, stabbing an oversized piece of steak and shoving it in his mouth. "You're really starting to piss me off." He mumbled a little louder, spraying bits of the meat on the placemat his fiancée had so carefully set out. Even though it was just the three of us eating dinner. For the third time this week. So much for pack togetherness.

Not like I could really escape Quil, Embry and the rest of them. They were still there, thinking almost exactly what Sam had just muttered out loud.

"You stop." Emily replied, swatting Sam with an oven mitt. "I think its sweet." Her dark eyes flashed to me, and she smiled quickly before whipping around to tackle the plates we'd soiled. I winced at the stack of plates gathering up and felt momentarily guilty—an outsider might think Emily had arranged an elaborate barbeque for twelve judging by the dirty dishes. Abruptly I stood up, feeling, as usual, that I had overstayed my welcome.

At the beginning of the summer, Sam ordered the rest of the pack to give me some space—but after a whole two days of relative solitude, he'd taken to babysitting me. In truth, my options were limited: staying home meant dealing with my dad who had grown concerned with my depression, and more often than not Charlie, her father. Going out meant spending time with the pack, and imprinted or not 'sex' was not almost always a topic of conversation. Going to her was simultaneously a necessity and something to avoid at all cost. And everywhere I went there were clocks and calendars taunting me, reminding me how little time I had left.

Even Charlie pitied me—the man's own daughter had all but up and left him, and he got over it much too quickly if you ask me. He and my father at first tried making me feel better ("You know, since Alice is planning Bella's whole wedding, she's got a lot of free time right now. Why don't you two get together before the big day?") and then simply left me in sad silence, careful to never mention her name in my presence. The pack had gone from empathetic, to understanding, to wary, to frustrated. I understood—they had to think about her every second that I did. Which was essentially every second of every minute of every hour of every day.

"Its not like you imprinted." Sam had gotten impatient with my moroseness earlier today. His voice was harsh, but even—it was nothing compared to the way Paul was always on my back. But it still stung. Didn't he realize I tried that? I didn't even try to fight back or anything. I was just kind of…broken. Of all of them, it was Emily and Leah who came to my rescue, forming a tentative alliance that broke through the tense situation between the two of them and Sam.

"That doesn't mean he doesn't love her!" Leah cried fiercely, narrowing her eyes at Sam who refused to meet her gaze. Their history usually made things…difficult for the pack. But Leah seemed to understand better than anyone. Sam made nice and invited me to dinner; their home had become a sort of refuge. Even with Emily making small talk and the platefuls of food, I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't stop thinking about Bella. Not just her hair and her face and her body and having her, kissing her, holding her…those types of thoughts hurt more. They only came at night, when I let my guard down. Now I was analyzing, like Cullen always did. He thinks he's so smart just because he had a whole century to get where he is. He keeps on pulling all this "selfless" crap, telling Bella he'd never hurt her. Telling her she could make the choice between him and me. That's a lie. He's a bloodsucker, they hurt by nature. And he never really gave her a choice.

He says that if she really wanted to go, he wouldn't stop her. That if she wanted me, she could have me. That's the difference between us: I know she belongs with me. I can feel it; there has never been any doubt in my mind that this wedding is a mistake. I know she loves me. And I know that his vampire love, cold, hard, and empty as it is, is nothing compared to what I can give her.

The worst part is that I practically led her to him. I might as well have given her a fucking map to the bloodsucker's house. I told her what they were. He deserted her, the stupid leech, and still she goes back to him. He says he doesn't want her to change, but if she doesn't they can never be together. If I had her, I would never make her change. I would be the one to change.

I left Sam's and walked home, but didn't feel like going inside. I could see through the window the glare of the T.V. The game was on. Charlie and my dad were probably watching. I decided to go to the garage to avoid talking to either of them. Automatically, I climbed into the front seat of the Rabbit, staring blankly into the driveway. I tried to clear my mind, gazing out into the twilight, but I couldn't erase the others' thoughts. Such trivial things—Leah and Sam arguing, Jared and Kim kissing, Quil and Embry out by the beach—I hated this unbreakable connection I had with them. I wanted to be alone. No, I wanted to be with Bella. Before I had a chance to talk myself out of it, I started the engine.


I had written a list a couple of weeks ago that I still had in my pocket. It was all of the reasons she should be with me instead of him. When I pulled into her driveway, I considered just shoving the note under the door and running. I didn't want to risk seeing the bloodsucker there. I might have to kill him.

Now the whole idea of a note seemed really juvenile, even though, at one point, that was how she tried to contact me. She used to joke about how much younger I was than her, and even still, it kind of annoyed me. Even with the whole "werewolf" thing, I'm still technically sixteen years old. But I'm supposed to compete with some whose over a hundred fucking years old, who has had that amount of time to practice ways to lure innocent girls into his bed. I feel like a little kid. But I still feel so much older than I did when I first met her down by the beach. And I look so much older…doesn't that count for something?

Sighing, I pulled the note out from my pocket to scan it over, looking down to remember I hadn't put on a shirt. Shit. In fairness to myself, I had become remiss with the whole "getting dressed" thing as of late. First, it was hot, being mid-June. Even in Forks, we got some relatively high temperatures, which were rough on a guy like me. Today especially, had been unusually sweltering weather. I had been asked, repeatedly, to join everyone down on the beach to enjoy the sun, but didn't feel up to it. Second, having scarcely left the house these past few weeks except to change or see the rest of the guys, fretting over what clothes to wear wasn't really a high priority. On the plus side, if I for whatever reason had to take down Cullen, changing would be a snap.

I had pretty much memorized the wrinkled scrap of paper I had abandoned in my pocket. Glancing at it now, it seemed nothing more than an unorganized list of thoughts. About two-thirds of it had been crossed out; a few more choice words (blood-sucker and Cullen among them) had been underlined vehemently. Save one sentence at the top, the whole thing seemed nothing more than chicken scratch, no more than a vice to release his feelings. Carefully I traced the three words I wrote first and foremost with my thumb nail: I love her.

With a surge of confidence I leapt out of the car and slammed the door, swaggering up to the door the way I had so many times before. This felt normal, right even. I was only slightly concerned about what I would do if Cullen opened the door. I recognized his scent, but it was faint. It didn't seem like he was here today. Maybe, I thought too quickly, he had left again.

I rapped on the door and waited, feeling suddenly nervous as her footsteps broke the silence. She must have been upstairs. I could hear her walk down the stairs. Through the living room. Into the front hall. She hesitated in front of the door.

"It's Jacob." I said hesitantly, bracing myself for her reaction. At that she flung the door open, grinning and dragging me inside.

"Jake, I'm so glad you came." She smiled genuinely, clasping my hand and guiding me to a seat at her kitchen table. She chattered, clearly happy to see me. "I wanted to call you, and I did twice, but your dad said you were feeling kind of down, which I knew was because of me, and you know, you shouldn't Jake because you know how I feel about you—"

Simultaneously, we noticed what the other was wearing. Bella wore an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants (pajamas, maybe?) and, my stomach turned at the sight, a ring on her left hand. My ensemble was hardly better: sweat pant cut offs, and tangled hair that now reached my shoulders. I dropped her hand and took a step backwards. We were both silent.

"I missed you." I said quietly, not quite meeting her gaze. Instead, my eyes swept her entire being: her hair pulled back into a pony-tale, a smile still on her lips but her eyes slightly fearful, uncertain.

"So did I." Her voice was barely above a whisper, and we stood, intensely aware of each other. I tried to suppress the question, but it slipped out of my mouth before I realized.

"Where's Cullen?" My voice was sharp, snarky. A complete departure from my earlier statement. Bella's eyes flashed angrily and she waited a beat, taking it all in, looking me up and down before making eye contact again.

"He's with Jasper and Emmet." She replied in a clipped voice. Instinctively I growled and turned away. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her cross her arms. "If you're not going to be nice—"

"No! I am, I am," I jumped in hurriedly, taking two quick steps until I stood inches away from her, the tips of my sneakers touching hers. "I just don't know how to speak to you anymore, I guess, you being a married woman and all…" I tried to make my voice sound playful, but there was an unintentional edge to it.

"Not yet," Bella said evenly. Her face gave nothing away, but I grinned at her lack of enthusiasm, and though she struggled, couldn't help but smile back.

"You never seemed the type to get married so young, to me, anyway." I touched the ring on her finger and observed it carefully—it looked expensive. Figures. "I mean my sister did too, it's just…unusual. You should tell Edward it's not 1925 anymore." I smirked and she pulled her hand away.

"Jake—" Her voice was quiet, a warning. But I was too close to her now, I could feel the warmth of her body. Being forced to leave her now would be the worst thing possible, and I ground my teeth together to try and suppress the overwhelming feelings of emotion—absolute hatred toward Edward, and uncontrollable love for Bella.

"Come on. Just let me stay. It's the least you can do after breaking my heart." I tried to joke, but my voice wavered at the last second, and I looked down to see Bella's concerned eyes. There was pity, yes. But she cared; she wasn't just humoring me.

"Jake," This time her voice was warm, and as she stated my name she threw her arms up around my neck and pressed her cheek against my chest. "I just want things to be the way they were," Her words were muffled against my body. I felt a twinge in my stomach at the way she reacted, and I pushed a little further.

"I don't want you to leave me." I kissed the top of her head hesitantly, experimenting. I tightened my hold around her waist and easily lifted her up and placed her on the kitchen counter, so she was a little taller. Not quite eye level, but almost. Had she always been so small, so delicate? I gently kissed her forehead, tracing my lips down her face to kiss her cheek.

"Don't…" She murmured, almost whining.

"I'm not convinced, Bella," I chuckled and kissed the other cheek. I then hovered slightly above her lips, and whispered, "You're going to be gone in a few weeks anyway, I need something to remember you by." Just saying it out loud made me ache, and a feeling of desperation overtook me.

But it was Bella who moved first, moving her head to meet my lips, ever so slightly. A gasp escaped my mouth, and I was insatiable, grasping her tightly, kissing with force to make up for all the nights I couldn't. I heard her whimper, and I pulled back, begrudgingly.

"Please, Bella," I begged, but at the sound of a car engine, both of us swiveled towards the window to see Charlie pulling into the driveway and parking behind my Rabbit.

"You have to leave." Bella said flatly, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Charlie knows I'm here," I countered, "My car's in your driveway. Besides, he likes me. Quite frankly, I have a feeling that if you were going to marry anyone he would want—"

"Well we can't exactly make out in front of him," Bella cut me off icily, scolding me like a child. "I can't make out with you at all, actually." She looked suddenly horrified, as if she hadn't really realized what it was we'd been doing. I heard the car door slam and I reluctantly swooped Bella off the table, and placed her a good three feet away. I sat down at the kitchen table, and smiled easily when Charlie walked in.

"Jake!" Charlie seemed genuinely happy see me. Well, happy to see me now that I didn't look so pathetic. He looked quizzically at my "outfit" before glancing at Bella for the answer.

"It was so nice out today, I went swimming with a couple of pals. Then I cam straight up here." I lied smoothly, grinning. "I hadn't seen Bella in awhile, and, as you know, her days are numbered." Charlie nodded, and Bella scowled at my double meaning.

"Jake was just about to head out," Bella stated firmly, grasping one of my shoulders. Shrugging and I got up and followed her to the door.

"See ya," I said as I passed Charlie, who murmured a bewildered acknowledgment before heading upstairs, clearly distracted. I allowed Bella to try and drag me to the front porch, but stood firmly underneath the flickering porch light. I waited until I was sure Charlie was in his room before speaking.

"I'm not leaving you." I stated, matter-of-factly. "I don't care that you're getting married. I even care that its to that bl—" I coughed, and changed tactics. "I love you, I know you love me. I could give you a thousand reasons why, but I am not giving you up. I know you belong with me." My words came out in a jumble, slurred and rushed. "I'll wait until Charlie's asleep. Then I'll come up to your room." I smiled devilishly, stroking her cheek.

"No," she answered too quickly, "You have to leave, I can't have you here."

"Why? Is Cullen coming back? Does he have spies around to keep you on lockdown?" I frowned and crossed my arms. If she wasn't letting me in, I was not leaving this porch. I saw her conflicted face, and pouted, holding one of her hands lightly. "I just want to know you feel the same way." I said quietly. "It's hard for me. I've got a big ego, and you keep turning me down." I nudged her only slightly but she wobbled backward unsteadily. I laughed loudly and pulled her into me, resting my head on top of hers.

"I'll meet you somewhere…" I could feel her face scrunching up, racking her brain for a place. "In the woods behind my house, in forty-five minutes, after Charlie's fallen asleep." She nodded towards a path that was barely visible in the dim light of the porch. "Go park your car somewhere, wait for me."

"Promise?" I pulled her chin up towards me, raising an eyebrow, a light smile forming when I noticed her furrowed brow. She clearly had a lot on her plate. But so did I.

"Yes." She laughed and squirmed, trying to pull out of my grasp to no avail. "Let me go." She scowled in mock anger, but her eyes were bright. I clicked my tongue and shook my head.

"Not until—" And I swooped down to kiss her, clearly surprising her. I dropped her suddenly, and dashed away, eager to run into the dark and furtive forest so I could see her again.