Author's Note - I had originally used Jacob's handwriting font for the 'note' sections of this, but it didn't keep the font when I uploaded this. Grrr. So, I suppose that bold italics will have to do.
I stared hard at the resolutely blank piece of paper, hoping that it would magically fill itself with just the right words. After another second of watching it still showed no signs of magical powers, so I sighed and resignedly picked up a plain black pen.
Bella,
I don't know why you're making Charlie carry notes to Billy like we're in second grade – if I wanted to talk to you I would answer the
No, that wasn't right. I scratched it out and started again.
You made the choice here, okay? You can't have it both ways when
I had promised myself that I wouldn't bring up her bloodsucking beau. I made a rough, uneven line through the sentences. I ground the pen against my fingers while I racked my brain for something, anything, to say. The cap, which had been stuck to the tail end of the pen, twisted off and flew halfway across the room.
What part of 'mortal enemies' is too complicated for you to
Keep it friendly, Jake, keep it friendly, I reminded myself. Another harsh black line through the scribbled letters. I moved the pen faster through my digits, inadvertently breaking it in two and splattering my hands, and the page, with sticky ink. God damn it! I kicked the too-small kitchen chair away from me, and stomped over to the trash to toss the useless pen remnants in it. I grabbed another one from the packed junk drawer and sat myself down again, now glaring murderously at the paper that refused to say what I needed it to.
Look, I know I'm being a jerk, but there's just no way around
Argh! I let out a frustrated growl as I crossed that out, too, my hand leaving another ink blotch when it brushed against the uncooperative page.
We can't be friends when you're spending all your time with a bunch of
There I go, mentioning the leeches again. Yet another angry scratch through the words. How can I tell her how I feel without sounding furious or pathetic? Because I definitely feel both of those things on a daily basis. Among many others, none of them fun to experience. Maybe that's the key; just tell her what I'm really going through….
It just makes it worse when I think about you too much, so don't write anymore
Nope, way too pathetic-sounding. I quickly struck out the offending phrases. And what was I thinking, telling her not to write anymore? If she didn't send me annoying, grade school-esque messages, I'd have nothing left of her at all.
Yeah, I miss you, too. A lot. Doesn't change anything. Sorry.
Jacob
That sums it up pretty well.