The Secret Life of the Heartbroken Teenager

"She had not known the weight until she felt the freedom"—Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter

I woke up screaming. I could feel my throat—it felt raw as though I'd just spent the last few hours shouting. I quickly glanced towards the door. Charlie slept like a rock, it was true. Nothing short of a bulldozer could have awoken him, and for that, I was lucky. I caught my breath, holding my stomach as a wave of nausea swept over me, threatening to send me to the bathroom. The rain tapped on my window and I shivered, glancing over at my alarm clock. The red numbers glowed, reading 4:17 am. My heartbeat slowed, but only a little. It was still racing as the image of his beautiful, flawless face singed its mark in my heart, sending me face-first into my pillow, gasping for air through the cotton and tears. And even through the endless pattering and thunder I could hear myself silently choking on his name. Edward.

"Found this upstairs—thought you might want it at one time or another," Charlie nudged an old book towards me, barely looking up from his oatmeal. I glanced at the fraying cover; it read Scarlet Letter.

"Dad—what—" I managed to say before he shrugged and cut in.

"Look, Bells—I just figured reading something might take your mind off of this—" he paused and stared sadly at the salt-shaker before clearing his throat, "—I just want you to try finding your way around this."

Charlie's eyes wrinkled around the edges showing his age and I suddenly felt my heart plunge as his mouth gave a threatening twitch. He was about to cry.

"Dad," my words trailed off and I couldn't find them again. They were lost somewhere in the guilt that was beginning to ache somewhere deep inside.

"I just want you to be happy, Bells," his hands balled into fists and I could tell he was struggling to restrain himself from breaking down right here in front of me. I was already broken enough—I couldn't watch Charlie start to crack too.

"I'm getting better, Dad. I really am—" shaky though the words were, I had to mean it. For Charlie. I reached for the Scarlett Letter, "And you know me well. I love these old classics." I forced a smile and patted his shoulder before grabbing my backpack and swearing to myself that I could only break down in the comfort of my room from now on.

I got home earlier than I had planned. Jessica had asked for help in Calculus but that had only lasted an hour and I was home by four. Home with the sound of the Seahawks game, a fridge full of leftovers and an empty backpack. The worst kind of day.

Frantically I searched for something to keep me distracted until I would have to face the hole in my chest again. I could not...no, would not allow myself to think of him until I was sure I had done all I could do for the day. With that last thought painfully lingering I grabbed for the remote and clicked through the channels forgetting to notice that the phone had just rung.

"Hey—uh, this is Jacob. Black.—" There was a pause on the answering machine, "Jacob Black, I mean. Wait I just said that. Okay uh, well, I was just—"

Whipping around I threw the remote on the couch (ignoring the fact that it had bounced off and nearly broken the lamp), heading straight for the phone, clicking "Answer".

"Jake!" my voice picked up at the end and the sound of my excitement nearly knocked the wind out of me.

"Bells,--hey," his voice had the same, comforting, rough and anxious quality it used to. The sound of it made my mouth turn slightly upwards into a grin, "I uh, I was just calling to see how you were. I mean. How you are...as in, how you've been doing lately—er--" he paused again, clearing his throat, "What I'm trying to say is, how are you?"

I closed my eyes briefly to smile at the way he tripped over his words. Typical Jacob since I'd met him; always too much to say and never enough time to say it. Almost as if he were afraid of time running out before he could say enough.

"I'm..." the words stopped cold in my throat. How was I? That was debatable. The C—they had left three months ago. They had left a hole where I could feel my happiness leaking slowly away. But then there was Jacob Black. He had enough happiness to start to make me glow again.

"Bella?" he whispered quietly. I turned my eyes towards the window and at the sun which had begun to crack through the clouds making the puddles on the road glint in a pretty way.

"I'm doing alright," my voice was steady and this too, surprised me. "In fact, I've really missed you."

-3 Months Later-March-

It was hard not to go to bed smiling, or without at least thinking of all the ways I would smile the next day. I reached blindly for my book-light and under my pillow for the Scarlet Letter that I had harbored there under my own curiosity. The cover was torn through the "H" on "The" and as far as I could tell the book was at least a few decades old seeing as on the title page there was a "To You, my dear. If you ever have a scarlet letter, wear it openly and let them cry for you—but never hide it and cry tears in due to shame. xoxo Peter—Christmas 1973." I turned to the introduction and couldn't help but wonder where on earth Charlie had ever had the motivation to buy this for himself; or buy it at all for that matter. My father was not the type to pour over a Victorian novel, much less anything aside from the sports section of the newspaper. Nevertheless I opened to the introduction and read briefly.

Hester Prynne, a beautiful rose in a dead garden. An independent woman came about by unfortunate circumstances. She had wandered, without rule or guidance, into a moral wilderness. Her intellect and heart had their home, as it were, in desert places, where she roamed as freely as the wild Indian in his woods. The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers - stern and wild ones - and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss...Scarlet letter? What is that, I thought, skimming over the next paragraph until my arms fell asleep.

My eyelids began to droop and I heard the book slowly slide off my lap and onto the pile of jeans on the floor next to the bed. I was more tired than I had realized.

Bella...you're not good for me. This is the last time you'll ever see me...

And again, I woke up in my nightmare.

"You've got that face again," Jacob raised his eyebrow as he glanced at me from the corner of his eyes. We were hand-in-hand on the rocky beach by our favorite tree and the wind was beginning to sway the branches above us. A seagull squawked noisily.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I exclaimed defensively, biting my lip to keep composure. It was probably true, though. I tended to look how I felt after a night full of the occasional nightmares that had been recently resurfacing. And Jacob could tell.

"Bella," he turned to face me and I could see in his dark eyes the concern that had been building in the last few months. Guiltily I feared that it would spill out from underneath his thick, jet-black lashes and cause me to fall apart right then and there.

My breathing had slowed to the pace of the waves washing against the sandy shore and my hand grew cold even under the heat of his palm. Somewhere I could feel my heart lurching as Jacob sighed and brushed a stray strand of my hair from my forehead and brought his lips together slightly. Only my eyes felt the edge of the wind as the tears blurred my vision, threatening to drip down my cheeks and onto my chin.

"Yes?" I breathed as I tried to keep the tears from spilling over. Jacob took my small, fragile hand in his and squeezed it slightly.

"It's because of him, isn't it?" he paused to bend down and kiss my hand, gently brushing his lips to it before looking up at me again, "I can tell."

My hand burned where he had kissed it and I realized that just this once Jacob hadn't taken my hand because he wanted to pretend that this was something more than it was. He had done it because he didn't know what else to do; what else would make me better. And I didn't either. For that slight moment I wanted to take his hand and kiss it, just to tell him that I had changed my mind and I wanted the same things he wanted. But I knew what that would mean. It would mean letting him go. Betraying my heart to save another; though one I could say was definitely more deserving than I.

I swallowed the urge to bury my face in his green windbreaker and soak it through until there was nothing left to cry and instead nodded solemnly, biting my lip. His eyes closed for a moment before he looked back at me.

"Do you want to go back? It's getting stormy."

I nodded numbly as he tugged me next to his side and brought his arm around my shoulder, nearly causing both of us to trip on the rocky shore.

"Sorry 'bout that," a slight smile played about on his full lips as he squeezed my shoulder and muttered, crap under his breath.

Charlie had wholly approved of my friendship with Jacob, especially seeing the way it had slowly been wiping the pained expressions off my face. And really, it was nice having a friend who I could feel carefree and happy around without having to pretend.

"Billy said it was alright if you stay," Jacob grinned, maybe a little too enthusiastically, reaching for a root beer out of the cooler in his tiny living room.

"What's with the cooler, anyway?" I nodded in its direction, signaling him to throw me a Sprite. He took a long drink out of his soda before wiping his mouth.

"My dad's idea. He's been getting lazy these days, complaining about having to wheel himself to the fridge."

I laughed. "Oh," I took a drink from my Sprite, ignoring how it burned my throat.

"So what do you want to do?" Jacob asked, leaning his head back on the little couch, glancing over at me. I sighed, kicking my socks off to feel the familiar brown carpet underneath my feet. It tickled.

"Anything you want—as long as you're not planning to rob any stores," I grinned, thinking with amusement about the fact that as long as I was with Jacob, I might even consider that doable.

"Oh, that sucks, 'cause I was hatching a plan to ransack Joe's and get you a cart-full of Ho-Ho's," he winked, laughing in spite of himself. I couldn't help but giggle.

"What about the Rabbit? Are you done with that, yet?" I managed to say through my giddy laughter. He shook his head briefly.

"Not yet," his voice had a tone of excitement to it, "But almost. I just need to put a few finishing touches on the engine and fix a crack in the dashboard," his smile grew wider, "then she's mine!"

I couldn't help but smile at his excitement and the way his eyes shone and his large hands danced as if he were reenacting each procedure. I glanced towards the garage door which was slightly open. He followed my gaze.

"Why, you want to watch me work on it?" he raised his eyebrows in surprise. I had already told him time and time again that it was my favorite way to spend time with him, but I knew he hardly believed that I got any fun from watching his hands assemble car parts. But it really was the truth.

"I'd love to, Jake." I immediately grabbed my sneakers and pulled them over my bare feet, reaching for the laces and tying them into a nice knot. He rolled his eyes in obvious disbelief, but took my hand nonetheless and pulled me down the few stairs and into the garage.

"So what's that?" I asked, watching intently as his huge hands turn over a piece of metal that looked like a handle to something. He glanced up at me, brushing a stray strand of his charcoal hair that hadn't been tied up out of his face.

"Uh, this—well this is the crankshaft." he bit his lip, sliding another piece of heavy metal onto it. I raised my eyebrow as his face became focused on the project, "And this," he motioned toward the other piece of metal, "is the sump. It helps with oil levels and all that good stuff."

I nodded without really understanding; not that it mattered. I didn't much care about a crankshaft or anything else related to cars. I just wanted to see Jacob happy because it made me happy. And when he kneeled here, working, it gave me satisfaction to know that he was doing something he enjoyed (besides listening to me gripe) and could give all his heart to.

Certainly there couldn't be a better way to spend my Sunday night (we had school off, Monday) than to watch Jacob's hands make something he could feel proud of. It gave me a shard of hope that he might have a life outside of taking care of me.

"Bells, you have to be bored," he groaned after awhile, placing the metal carefully under the hood and into its place. I smiled, walking over next to him, placing my hands on the side, peering down into the metal maze. He sighed.

"Seriously, Jake, you have no idea how much I am enjoying myself." I paused as he raised his eyebrow, "Really," I assured him. He nodded.

"Okay, but swear you'll tell me if you want to go hang out and watch TV or something—or hey, I can order pizza. Billy left me a twenty earlier. Told me to spend it on something useful," he wiped a wrench off with a blackened cloth, "and pizza's useful, isn't it?"

I felt my stomach growl, "You keep working—I'll order it. What kind do you like?"

He picked up another unidentifiable tool and wiped it off before slamming the hood shut and thinking a minute, "I'm all for whatever you want. Food's food in my world," he grinned, patting his stomach.

"How about a little of everything? Charlie and I always order it. We call it 'everything pizza'," I laughed, "I bet even you couldn't get through two slices of it."

Jacob grinned, "We'll see about that," he winked, reluctantly setting back to work on the engine, probably still unconvinced that I was having any fun. Before heading up the stairs I turned around.

"Do you want anything more to drink while I'm inside?" I asked. He motioned to a small paper bag on the floor next to an old lawnmower.

"There's a couple of Sunkist's in there. I grabbed them earlier, unless you want something else?"

I shook my head, "No, Sunkist sounds great," and headed happily into the Black's miniature kitchen that had dishes piled up in the sink and a bunch of sticky notes on the fridge, including notes to Jacob to remember to "put cooler in living room for Dad". I smiled, reaching for the small cord-phone. Sadly I didn't need a phone book. I'd memorized the number for Pacific Pizza.

"Third slice—" Jacob swallowed, rubbing his stomach, groaning slightly. I snapped my fingers in defeat.

"Darn, I guess that means you win the bet," I shook my head in sarcastic defeat. He rolled his eyes.

"Oh yeah, we have a winner, " he threw his hands up in the air, "Jacob Black takes the gold for downing three slices of extra-stuffed-everything-who-knows-what-the-crap-was-in-it pizza." I giggled, "But dang was it good." he rubbed his stomach again.

"Told you. Charlie never fails to be amazed with it." I laughed in spite of my simple father, and Jacob joined me. We laughed together like this, sitting side by side on the cold cement floor of his garage, sipping the last of our Sunkist's. Our arms touched slightly and I shivered with the happiness at his warmth. He leaned his head against the front of the Rabbit and groaned again.

"What is it?" I asked, watching his face droop with obvious shame. He glanced down at me.

"I just remembered I need to fix that crack on the dashboard..." his hair was starting to fall out of the hair-tie he'd put it up in earlier, into a shiny black mess.

"Go ahead—I'm full, anyway," I urged him, "My stomach's about to explode and nothing sounds better than sitting and relaxing."

His beautiful black hair was starting to fall across his shoulders, framing his lovely, russet-colored skin.

"If you say so," he shook his head incredulously, standing up and stretching before re-tying his hair and yanking open the driver's-side door. Around his middle he had on a belt full of bizarre-looking tools that I was too exhausted to try and identify. Lazily I made my way to the passenger's side, sliding into the vacant seat and leaning my head against the door as I watched him with awe.

His hands moved swiftly to and from the belt as he leaned over the slightly-cracked dashboard, long metal tool in his mouth, occasionally glancing over at me to catch my eye. I could tell that even though he doubted I was truly enjoying myself, he appreciated the company. After all, being alone too long could make you think. I would know. And Jacob Black had a lot to think about. His best friend was broken into a million pieces and he was constantly trying to assemble them only to return one day to find a horrible dream had shattered me again. I shivered as he smoothed out the crack tenderly, rubbing a black glue-looking substance over it. When would he stop trying? Would he stop trying? A person can only have so much patience until they start to crack, too.

I glanced at his intent gaze, determined to fix his car. The one thing he could fix that wouldn't break—at least not immediately. He reached for another tool in his belt.

But this was Jacob Black—my best friend, and a boy who, for all intensive purposes, loved me. I could see it there in every line of his hand and in every sigh of breath. He was someone I could always trust. And if this flame; if Jacob Black ever went out on me, then anyone would. I knew he would last far beyond what I could ever imagine myself capable of.

My heart suddenly wrenched and twisted with an uncomfortable realization, and my breath stopped short, causing me to physically clasp my chest. Jacob turned, noticing.

"You alright, Bells?" his voice sounded wary as he set down the black paint and tucked the last stray tool into his belt. I forced myself to swallow the scream I felt coming up.

I had thought Jacob would never leave me, this was true. But hadn't I thought that of someone else? Someone who I had thought to be too good for me, but who I had hoped by some small amount of luck, would stay by my side any way? I had hoped. But he had left. And if he did, maybe Jacob would have the sense to leave me, too.

"Bella?" he repeated more slowly and with more concern. I was frozen in my seat, my eyes focused on the windshield. He glanced over his shoulder and back at me again. I could hear the thunder off in the distance and the sound of pattering rain on the gravel outside.

What if, in the end, Charlie was the only one who would stand by me? I had already...lost—I cringed at the thought—someone I could have never imagined life without. And what would be any different if Jacob decided he'd had enough of me? He wouldn't do that, I reassured myself, but that didn't stop the tears from welling up again like earlier today. Only this time, I wasn't thinking of just one boy; I was thinking of two.

"Bella—what's wrong," Jacob repeated, untying his tool-belt, throwing it to the ground. The sun was almost set, leaving a faint purple-pink glow in the distance from the Black's open garage, the car parked inside. I felt my stomach roll. He closed his door, pulling himself into a sitting position on the seat, his hand pressed to my forehead. But I wasn't physically sick.

"Jacob..." I whispered as my eyes burned. I sure teared up easily these days. I was so broken that the thought of even the slightest crack to my conscience sent me into hysteria.

"Bells, I'm here, honey," he mumbled, giving me a knowing look as he brought my face delicately to the crook of his neck, letting my cheek rest on the shoulder of his brown t-shirt. He knew that I was going to cry. He knew that, even though he had tried his hardest to make this a pleasant night, I was falling apart again. Even with the sun itself right next to me.

"I—I'm s-sorry, Jake," I choked on his name as it made my heart ache. In a different way than his name had. I clutched at his t-shirt as I struggled to, just this once, keep my tears from falling in front of him. You promised not to break down I silently scolded myself, biting my lip until it started to bleed. I could feel his hot breath in my hair and I shivered.

"It's not your fault, Bella," he whispered into my hair, "He's stupid to have left you."

I gasped, closing my eyes to keep from crying. "I—I should've k-known he would f-find someone b-better," I stuttered, tripping over my words. Jacob pulled me closer to him, his voice wavering like mine. I could tell he was upset.

"Bella—you didn't do anything wrong, you understand that?" he buried his lips in my hair, making me shiver again. I felt the tears starting to well again.

"H-he's too g-good for m—" I started, but Jacob quickly pulled himself away from me, almost angrily. He placed his huge, warm hands on either side of my face and I could see the concern in his deep-set eyes. A concern that was starting to smolder. He brought his face only inches from mine.

"Bella—as much as I hate him, I just don't get it. If anyone's more upset and confused right now it's me. I can't even begin to understand why anyone would ever leave you!" his breath tingled my lips, and I could feel the tears about to spill over, "And if he can't see that...then I don't know why you think he deserves you."

I closed my eyes now. Jacob was looking at me, I could tell. I was afraid that if I opened my eyes again the tears would come flooding out.

"Bella." he whispered after a moment, taking my hand in his. He sounded tired but he brought my hand to his lips, his breath steady and calm.

"Jacob—" I muttered in surprise as I felt his lips graze each of my fingers, kissing them delicately.

"This," he whispered, kissing my thumb, "is for every promise that I will break to you," he kissed each of my fingers for a slight moment before bringing his face to mine, touching a finger under my chin as he leaned towards me. I opened my eyes as the tears started to fall.

"And this," he paused for a moment, leaning his lips to my cheek, pressing them to the spot where each tear fell, and then to each eyelid, "is for the one promise I know I'll keep."

It was silent for a moment, and I could feel the burning where he kissed my cheeks. The tears dried up from his heat.

"I know what he did to you," he whispered taking each of my hands in his to kiss them again. Jacob Black I wanted to scold—but yet I didn't. Couldn't. It felt too nice. "And Bella, I won't ever hurt you."

His hands burned mine, but the heat wasn't overwhelming this time. It was vital. He parted his lips and I knew he meant these words. He meant them more than even he realized. Because we needed each other.

He leaned in towards me, and suddenly touched his large hand to my chest, closing his eyes. His hand was over my heart. His breathing was deep, thoughtful as he brought my hand to his heart, resting it there. I looked up at him.

"Bella," he breathed, closing his eyes, bringing my face to his chest, "You have no idea how much he missed out on."

I inhaled the scent of motor-oil and pine from his T-shirt and felt my shaking starting to subside. Jacob Black was my best friend; he was my Jacob.

It was dark now; completely dark. The only light was the kerosene lamp in the garage, dimly illuminating the inside of the car. How long had we been out here? Hours at the least. And yet I couldn't remember never being here with him; never being completely broken. Only a little, but it was getting better.

I pulled my face away from his chest, reaching up to untie his hair, letting it fall like a raven-black curtain across his shoulders. He was truly beautiful; not in the ways that he was. But in an imperfect, rugged way, Jacob Black was beautiful. I brushed a stray strand of hair away from his face and as he leaned his head down I tilted mine up slightly so that our mouths met along the way, touching together in a perfect fit. I smiled into the kiss—I could taste Sunkist and the essence of motor oil on his full lips and I could hear him trying to catch his breath as my mouth moved with his in a rushed way; as if to make up for all the times we never had done this before.

It seemed like forever since our mouths hadn't parted. I couldn't taste anything but him—every wonderful flavor that made my best friend, and now my...well, what was he? It didn't matter. I just wanted to keep tasting it until I ran out of breath.

And I could see the steam on the windows, lightly fogging our view, but my mind was rocking back and forth with every new emotion that kept arising within me. My heart was racing yet it was calm; my breath was his breath, our lips melted together in the heat and I could hear a slight sound of satisfaction in the back of his throat.

What was more I barely acknowledged his hands on the soft part of my stomach, touching it lightly and tenderly as our mouths touched again and again, then the moment where my head went fuzzy and his bare chest was hot under my fingertips.

"Bella," he whispered into my lips pressing his mouth to mine ever harder and more anxiously than before. I didn't want to not taste him. I was in too deep.

"Jake," I mumbled on his mouth, closing my eyes as I felt his hands fumble with my button-down shirt. He paused slightly and gazed down at me and I was surprised to see that he was the same Jacob Black I had been best friends with just hours ago...his eyes were gentle; perhaps a little hungrier than I had seen them; but he still harbored concern and love deep within. I could tell. What would tomorrow bring? It didn't matter. And I could only think that perhaps Jacob Black was like the rain, here. He'd always be there no matter what the circumstance.

"I love you," he murmured and my mind went fuzzy again, and I could only feel the fabric of his car under my back and Jacob's beautiful hair tickling my face and the kisses that kept my lips tingling.

"I—" I was cut off as he kissed my cheek and down to my lips, "I love you, too, Jake." my voice was weak but he heard me. He sighed as if I had just told him he had finally won the lottery after several times of trying.

"I know," he kissed me again, his huge, muscled arms on either side of my head, resting on the seat as he leaned his body down, sending shivers up my spine and stopping my breath in my throat.

And so I closed my eyes and let it happen. I let Jacob take care of me in the way he'd always wanted; watched his face touched with a new kind of concentration; a new kind of love not unrequited, touching his cheeks so they turned a slight pink. And his eyes as he felt my hands on his muscles—his breathing becoming shallow, and then very, very heavy. I let the pain slip away. Jacob Black was no longer just my best friend. He was something I could not and would not live without. And now, he was a part of me. There was no space between us.