Does this story seem familiar to you? It might because it used to be known by another title, Jacob and Bella, which is now only the name of the first chapter, as it was meant to be. You don't have to reread anything. Everything is the same as it was except for some grammatical editing. Sorry to those of you have been reading this whole time hoping that Jake and Bells would eagerly rip each other's clothes off, which is all fine and good, but there are already plenty of other stories like that. If that is what you are looking for, you won't find anything like that here. This story is meant to explore why Bella feels the way she does, who she is, what makes her tick, and more importantly I am hoping to put Bella in a position to be doing some of the saving instead of alway staying put. Enjoy or don't. The best peeps are the ones who review as they go. Thanks to leelee24 who didn't forget about me.

Jacob and Bella

Chapter 1

My ancient truck roared to life as I turned the key in the ignition. Today for the first time, I would visit Jacob without an agenda because the unrelenting rain had forced us to cancel our long awaited test drive of our newly rebuilt motorcycles. Last night I couldn't sleep, stirring with excitement, tossing and turning; overwhelmed by the anticipation of our excursion. Then the sky was over cast but no rain was falling. This was not a first for Forks, but rare. Disappointedly I dressed for the day. All the while emptiness filled my chest strangling any fleeting attempt at daredevil happiness. I would not hear Edward's voice today.

The drive to the La Push was uneventful. Large drops of rain, typical of Forks, bombarded the windshield. The wipers of my Chevy swept back and forth. Trees raced past my windows. I listened to the low hum of the tires on the road. Having nothing to look forward to made life monotonous. Soon I would pull into Billy Black's driveway. Jacob, my safe harbor, my sun, is the only distraction I've had since Edward left. Charlie was elated at the match. Little did he know that this paring was frayed, incomplete, because I'm incomplete. Jacob is not only a distraction. He is being used to feed my emptiness. I couldn't let him get used to this. The guilt widened into the depths of my chest, which I preferred to ignore. I am a bad friend.

The Black House was still and quiet. Billy was likely seated in his wheelchair, parked in front of his TV, watching whichever Washington team was in season. Though he had faced raising his only son without his wife, with two grown twin daughters, Billy Black was resilient in a way I could only envy. He was this even when just only sitting in front of the television. Jacob is strong like his father. Charlie is right that Jacob and I are good together. He is wrong that I am good for him.

I got out of the truck. I wanted to avoid making fishing and sports small talk with the Black patriarch. I walked instead around to the back of the house in search of Jacob. His "garage" was made of two sheds combined to make one large room and was now, for the time being, completely silent. I frowned thinking that I may have to find Jacob in the house after all. I wanted anything else more then to stand before Billy Black a gapping hole of despair and shame, because he knew that I longed for my love back, his enemy, and not his only son. One thing that I could count on. Charlie didn't talk much, but he talked to Billy.

As I approached the door of the garage an expletive rang out followed by the sound of metal, probably tools, crashing to the garage's dirt floor. I rushed through the door to find Jacob sprawled on all fours, a metal tray turned over, having fallen from the passenger seat of his Volkswagen Rabbit. A Classic, he would have added for good measure.

He looked up surprised at my sudden urgency, having rushed through the door. While his crooked smile beamed, my guilt became a canyon. "Bells" he said excitedly gathering up the rest of his mess, tossing tools indiscriminately onto the metal tray, still on the floor. "Figures," he said. "Tripped over my own feet," hanging his head as if it were an apology. Jacob stood to his full height constructing a towering shadow. I could still see his white teeth flashing from his wide smile so completely contrasting his dark skin and black hair framing his face.

"Sorry everything's a mess today Bells," Jacob apologized. All I could think is, he is apologizing to me? I realized then that I was still standing there, my feet frozen to the floor, not having said anything to him, despite my excited entrance. I hated myself more for his apologies. I wanted so badly to deserve, to be the person Jacob believed me to be. Instead I was a shell of that person and he filled in for what Edward had taken from me. I merely filled in for the girl that Jacob should admire. One he would deserve.

Before he could eek out another apology for something not even worth mentioning, I approached him. I was going through all the motions but still had nothing to say. His smile faded as I moved into his shadow. Nervously he turned and grabbed an oil covered rag to wipe his hands. I saw behind him the red paint of my motorcycle standing still lonely next to his refurbished Harley Spirit, a perfect metaphor to our friendship. Together, locked in by the rain.

Awkwardly Jacob stepped forward and took both my hands in his. A typical gesture. His smile widened again but faded quickly a serious look crossing his face. I was not talking and that was making him nervous.

"Waz up?" he asked still grinning.

"Just coming for a visit," I responded trying to ease the tension. Relief spread across his face like warmth. Tension dripping away. It worked. I need to keep talking.

"Yeah, too bad 'bout the rain," he repeated, this time, to my relief, not apologizing. He pouted, flirting with me, as he would on any ordinary day. He released my hands when I didn't flirt back. Poor Jacob. Tried and true. He stared into my face. The vortex in my chest opened wide to receive the guilt for the way he was looking at me. This was worse than any apology. He tolerated my lack of reciprocity with patience. I had lost a few years according Jacob's brand of age equivalency. I was a child. Dependant.

When Jacob turned away unable to face me, seemingly embarrassed, I frowned to myself quickly, determined to move on. Salvage the day. Make an effort. "So what are we doing today", I asked. Jacob faced me again, the lines in his face hidden in shadow. This brought back the reality that I am still here to see him. Effort in the moment. He bent back down to pick up his tools; I couldn't identify which, his face moving in and out of the florescent light. His pony tail had been pulled loose and errand strands clung to the sides of his face making him look tousled and excited. He lifted the tray looking casual but not hiding his deep thought, "hmm," he vocalized, thinking aloud. Not like Jacob. Being with Jacob and getting this response, one I was not at all used to, I made a greater effort to push all thoughts of Edward from my brain. How could I explain to my best friend that the excitement he exposes me to evoke hallucinations of my ex. "Cullen", Jacob would have said with scorn masked in sympathy.

Jacob's actions betrayed him thinking as highly as he did of me. "I could show you what work I've done on my Rabbit," he offered looking over his shoulder to see my reaction tossing the oily rag into the shadow of the garage. I nodded feigning interest and he jumped to his feet again, gracefully for such a gangly young man. "Well," he began tinkering with the engine components I didn't recognize, "and this connects here to the…" he smiled as I nodded again to show how acutely he held my attention. "To make the engine turn over…" I tilted my head pantomiming the movement of his hands, not following his words. "and now it's fueled with puppy blood." I nodded again, too late to realize what he was doing.

"I'm sorry…I…I." All I could do was get away. I turned on my heels, a dangerous maneuver for me in a typical situation, a ridiculous idea seeing as Jacob was so much taller then me now. My quick four strides to the door were merely two quicker ones of his. I felt his hands close around my waist, a familiar touch but with much warmer hands. "You don't have to leave. I understand how distracting it can be locked in the same room with a handsome guy like myself," he said laughing through his smile at his own joke. His confidence was confusing. New.

"I just can't explain what is going on because there's nothing going on," I lied, making a mental note to practice making sense when lying to my best friend. The hole in my chest was testing my limit.

"This about Cullen?" he said, I perceived with scorn, no sympathy.

"I…" I hesitated. "I don't want to hurt your feelings," I said giving honesty a try again. Lying wasn't working in my favor.

"Bella, I'm not going to tell you that talking about your feelings for Cullen won't hurt my feelings but the simple fact is, you are here with me. Not to be rude or make you feel worse, Bella, but I have a better chance then he does, despite your feelings. I'm right here."

As he said this he grasped my right hand in both his large ones, raising it to his face. He held my hand against his cheek gently emphasizing his proximity. Without warning my eyes began to water, still staring into his. He lowered my hand, held in his, to the level of his waist. I pulled away uncomfortable with the gesture.

"Jacob, I love you, but I cannot choose you by default. You are more then someone's second choice." Now I was crying.

Jacob thought for a second. His eyes narrowed nearly unnoticeable and he smiled again, "see I've got you again Bella, because we could just be with each other for practice."

My mouth hung open at his proposition. I was shocked and angry. My tears of sadness, emptiness became tears of anger in an instant. I turned to walk out but Jacob grabbed my shoulder stalling my escape yet again.

"Ah, there is the fiery Bella I love."

"You have no right… to…to…how…what…" I couldn't complete my thoughts into one meaningful sentence.

"Bella, I can't stand to see you moping around anymore. I'd rather see you mad at me then moping all of the time. Wasting all of you emotions on someone-" he paused. "You don't even know where he is. He's gone Bella. Gone."

"Jacob Black, you are incredulous."

"I-" he cut me off from completing my poorly formed thought, "haven't done anything wrong really. 'M jus' trying to get you out of your funk. Let's just go out- outside," he immediately clarified. He must be afraid I would leave angry, despite what he says, I noticed, having made the effort to choose his words so carefully.

Jacob moved to pass me out the door. The anger had begun to melt away but the sting of his innuendos floated around in my head a swarm of intentions that he'd never admit to. He pulled me through the door by my hand and walked me toward my truck. "See she's still turnin' over," he commented, pointing toward my truck, advertising his advantages. Jacob who can keep my truck running versus large gapping whole in chest. He did have his appeal. "Yup" was my only dry response. "I maybe mopey but you're moody or manipulative. Haven't decided which," I commented without waiting for his reaction while pulling open the driver's side door. Jacob just shrugged his shoulders.

"Wait for me here. Be right back," he instructed leaving me at the truck. The screen door of the Black House was slamming shut on its spring before I could look up. He's always in such a hurry. I climbed into the driver's seat and waited. Jacob strutted from the house, its windows black revealing no secrets. A second or two later he appeared at the passenger side door.

"Bells, we're off," he said stepping easily into the truck next to me.

"Off to where?" I asked. What is going on? I thought.

"First Beach-" he suggested.

I cut him off "Not in all this drizzle. I'd like to find a dry activity for today." I said with a shiver thinking of a day out in the rain, without the motorcycles. Not worth it was my final judgment.

Jacob stared at the windshield, his thinking seemingly hopeless. Defeated. First Beach was our trusty stand by. "Just drive, I guess," was his final suggestion.

We sat quietly, Jacob playing with his fingers nervously. For the first time I realized he'd gone into the house to wash the engine grease from his hands. Not feeling any better and literally headed no where, I pulled the Chevy to the side of the road, after having driven past countless trees, a green blur not from the arthritics speed of my Chevy, but from lack of concentration, than I realizing too late, having parked maybe a few yards from the entrance to the trail of Edward's meadow. I hadn't thought through this far. I was reacting emotionally not rationally. This was a new experience for me. My plans were never the best laid and here I was winging it disastrously. This was risky but I couldn't just pull back onto the road. That would reveal to Jacob another recollection of Edward. It would hurt Jacob. I don't want to explain this erratic behavior.

Without looking at him I erupted, emotional again, losing all grasp of rational thought, "what's going on?" I nearly screamed slapping my hands repeatedly against the steering wheel.

"Whoa. It's a good thing this truck can take a beating." Jacob reached for my hands again, restraining them to prevent further tantrums. "All I want is for you to be happy," he confessed. "Is this what we are talking about? You or me or us?"

"I wish I could do you that small favor, Jake. I am happy but I'm human," I admitted knowing he wouldn't understand the fullness of that truth. How different things would be if I weren't human, I wondered.

"I think I could make you more happy then you are right now, if you gave it a chance."

His words sunk into me. Was he right that Edward's absence was like his existence itself, eternal? That I should move on? I knew he was right but bringing myself to do that. To move on- I didn't have the strength yet. I was still bound with sadness, crippled by the hole, a constant reminder of what I loved and lost.

By my hand, Jacob pulled me closer to his body. I sunk into his chest. Silently he held me. I could feel him lean into me, smoothing my hair with his cheek, smothering his face into my hair, breathing in deeply. He did this repeatedly for what seemed like several minutes, the duration of which overwhelmed him and me with the intimacy of the moment. It felt nice to lose track of time.

Jacob's arm curved around my body. He continued to hold my hand, my elbow crooked, held to my chest. I could feel my heart pounding there. Jacob's hand became damp from sweat just sitting there with me a ball in his lap. Our breathing increased together, a synchronized pace. Suddenly I was in the moment. I wanted to cry but I was happy.

I lay there unmoving, welcoming the attention. Absorbed. There was no more abyss breaking me apart, draining my soul. No more repressed longing diverting my attention from where I am in the moment.

Jacob's left hand, I now realized had been resting on the bench of the truck, behind me. Very very slowly he tested my tolerance for this kind of attention. I was still thinking emotionally and the situation was feeding a baser instinct I hadn't tapped into. I nodded my head against Jacob's stomach encouraging the gentle caresses of my best friend. He laid his left hand on my hip. He waited for my refusal again and when none came he squeezed my right hand still held tight against my chest, in his right hand. I breathed in deeply. He returned the inhalation of air, his chest rising and falling with greater effect then before. We were no longer in synch.

Jacob's left hand trailed the length of my left side from my waist to my elbow, slowly. Then the progress of his hand increased up the side of my body quickening. A squeeze of my arm. A rub of my shoulder. With a slow and nimble gesture of his fingers he moved my hair exposing my neck. I could feel my pulse throbbing below my jaw line. He leaned his face down into the nest of my hair and pressed his lips against my neck. I must be cold, I thought, feeling the heat of his skin against mine. I shivered again. I could only wonder what that communicated to Jacob. A second later, that question was answered. He was encouraged. He sighed. I turned my face toward his. He gently brushed his lips against my cheek. His eyes were closed. Not knowing what I was doing I shifted onto my back, keeping my head cradled in his lap and keeping his hand held tightly in my own, still against my chest. He opened his eyes as I repositioned. He locked his eyes on mine. Dark brown, shiny, wide.

"Jake?"

"Yeah."

"What are we doing?"

"Dunno, you brought me here. Goin' with the flow".

"Um, we can't...um, stay parked on the side of the road like this."

"Why not?"

"Um, my dad. Patrols. We'd get. We can't." I couldn't seem to speak a whole sentence today.

"Technically, we're not doing anything wrong yet," he defended or encouraged. Jacob didn't seem to be capable of doing anything "technically wrong" today from my standpoint, I thought sarcastically. I'm not sure what he was intending.

I closed my eyes to put two thoughts together. Opening my mouth to speak I felt his mouth crush against mine. I held firm for an uncalculatable amount of time. Feeling whole. Feeling warm. Happy. I kissed him back. It wasn't the slow and controlled kisses I was familiar with. It was wet and warm.

"Jake?"

"Yeah," he said pulling away looking more serious then I'd ever seen him. His eye lids half open.

"Not here."

"Okay."

I drove him home in silence.

The next day at school was the same as any other. I was neither pariah or popular. At lunch I sat with the usual crowd but I wasn't really there. School passed in a haze of books, assignments, blurred faces passing me in the hallway. I spoke syllables. Not words. No sentences. All half thoughts. My lips felt numb.

I went home, not having to work today, planning to catch up on homework, do laundry and eventually to prepare Charlie's dinner. I sat at the table working on my paper for literature while baking the casserole in the oven. The house was quiet except for the ticking of the oven as it preheated. It nearly was never this quiet. Usually there was a murmur of the TV with the occasional roar when a touchdown was made or a homerun scored. The silence was broken by a knock at the door.

"Bells?' Jacob said entering before I had a chance to get up.

"I'm in the kitchen, Jake."

Jacob entered the room with his backpack swinging from his hand. "I was taking the Rabbit for a test drive and thought that I might stop by and see if you wanted to study. It's not her maiden voyage yet. There's still some fine tuning, but all in good time." I bit my lip as he was talking. "Sure. I was just working on something. What time is it?" I bit my lip again. "5:30, 'bout," he answered.

"That's weird. Where's Charlie?" I thought out loud.

"Well guessing as I passed him as I was leaving my house, with dad and Harry and Sue. Also that note on the fridge says that he won't be home for dinner and that you should join us at my place." Jacob gestured toward the refrigerator. I must have opened and closed the refrigerator five or six times since I'd been home and not noticed the note there. I slapped my hand to my forehead. I wasn't used to being this oblivious.

"I'm guessing you've made enough for two?" he asked pointing toward the oven.

"Ah, yeah. Hungry? It's still gonna be a while but…"

"good." he said quietly under his breath.

"So, you're not hungry then?" I asked shaking my head.

"Not that. I just came by because I had a feeling you wouldn't come by my place, even with an invitation," he said tightening his lips together, frowning a little.

"I didn't know Jacob. Seriously. I don't know where my head has been the last couple days."

"That's why it's good. You aren't avoiding me then?"

"I haven't exactly had the opportunity yet," I said teasing.