A/N: Okay, I do this a lot…but sorry for the slow update. For some reason this chapter was very difficult for me to right, so my apologies if it isn't as smooth as it should be.

I hope you enjoy it none the less and that it was worth the wait.

Read and review!

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Chapter Three: This is Cold War

It had been a week since Paul played the Dark Knight in shining armor to my Damsel in Distress. The week had been utter hell. He left me alone, but would I would catch him looking at me. He would tease me with seemingly accidental touches—bumping into me in the hall way, brushing against me when he would pass by. He was slowly tormenting me, just as he said he had the right to do so, and was enjoying every minute of it.

He didn't talk to me.

Not one single word.

Not one syllable was uttered to me, but his actions spoke for him. I was reading his mixed signals and wondering if I was loosing my mind. Had I imagined the Nice Paul in the car? I didn't even think it was possible for him to exist or even coincide with the chauvinistic prick that was Paul on a regular day.

Part of me missed the harassment because it gave me some sort of contact with Paul, a connection, if you will. But I shouldn't miss it. I didn't know what the hell was going on that I missed Paul scaring me and talking to me like I was some lowly creature. I seriously needed to get my head back in order but I didn't know how. How could I stop the butterflies from filling my belly when Paul was anywhere near me? How could I stop my heart from tripping over itself at the sight of him? How could I stop my breath catching in my throat when I caught him looking at me?

That was the worst part—when Paul looked at me. He looked at me, his deep and dark eyes threatening with their anger and resentment. The resentment was new, whether or not that was better or worse I couldn't say. I never knew.

I had no experience with guys at all. I had never had a boyfriend, which meant I had never been kissed. It meant that I didn't know how to handle myself around guys, I didn't know right from left when I was around guys. I didn't know how to flirt, or to even talk to them. But it had been easy to talk to Paul that day in the car. It had been effortless and simple and easy right up until I ruined it.

I should have just left it alone, but of course I didn't. But I had from that point on. It had been a week and I hadn't even paid any (obvious) attention to Paul. I had managed to avoid him every chance I got, despite the fact that he had being ignoring me. The feeling seemed mutual, as though we were both ignoring each other. I didn't know what to make of that. But a small part of me kept on ignoring and avoiding and evading because I was scared that at some point Paul would stop and try something. Whether it is making fun of me, or even trying to make his freakishly possessive comments.

Sometimes I would catch him looking at me with this smug smirk on his face, as if he had big plans or something. Other times I just chalked it up to the fact that Paul liked to watch me squirm. But for the most part I held my head up high and acted like none of that was happening. I pretended that I had never invited him to come and get dry in my house. I pretended that he wasn't staring at me. I pretended that I didn't notice him staring at me. Needless to say, this past week has been a lot of pretending for me.

There were other times, though, scary times when I would hold his gaze. I would hold it there, my eyes locked in with his, in a silent dance foreign to me. I would hold it until he looked away, taking the tingles and butterflies with him. It was in those moments that it was clearer than ever—something was going on.

I didn't know what (obviously) but I had the distinct impression that there was indeed more to Paul and Sam's little club. I think it stretched far beyond being the golden boys of the Reservation, but whatever was truly going on with those boys I will never know. But I wanted to know. I so desperately wanted to know what Paul had been arguing about with Sam in the hallway, especially since it obviously had something to do with me. Though, the more cowardly aspect of my self was content to just let it be. Part of me was more than happy to just let Paul keep all the skeletons in the closet and more importantly, keep the secret skeletons from me.

I didn't know what to do because it felt like something had begun, like the strings of fate were already steadily weaving their way through. It felt as though these very strings couldn't be undone or cut short. But who was I to say? I mean it could be me just going crazy—which would be the most likely reason, because really, how many girls still want to talk to the guy that called them fat? How many girls wanted to hear said guys voice? How many girls wanted to try ad uncover more?

Not many sane girls.

Just me.

The one that had already forgotten what it felt like to be sane. I truly had, I felt so lost and confused. I was getting panicked and anxious with each passing day, waiting for Paul to make a move. It felt like I had my head lain down on the executioner's block and was waiting for the axe to come down on me.

But I couldn't live like that. If I did I was going to have grey hairs by the time graduation rolled around. I didn't want to feel this way, as though I was waiting around for him to make a move. I didn't want to keep monitoring his body language and trying to read the looks on his face just to get through my day.

I wanted to be mad at Paul for making it this way, but I knew these feelings and my growing paranoia were nothing short of my own creation. I was responsible for my happiness, my state of being, not anyone else, and certainly not Paul. I would have loved to say it was Paul making me feel this way, but it wasn't, it was my reactions to his actions. I couldn't blame Paul for my lack of control over my emotions, but I could blame him for putting me in this position to be feeling this way.

I wanted to forget the past week.

I wanted to forget the tingles.

The butterflies.

The flutter of my heart.

The heat of his touch.

I wanted to forget but I couldn't.

I was too deep into the forest to find my way back now.

P ~ B

I was currently sitting in English Class and was nearly positive that I could taste the tension that seemed to join Paul and I together. Paul sat in the desk next to me, fist clenched around a pencil (a pencil that I felt sorry for) and I could almost hear his teeth grinding together.

English Class, due to the way our desks were parked next to each other, brought Paul and I in close proximity. Closer than either of us appreciated. I didn't like it one bit, in fact my heart thumped at its fastest pace at this time of the day because of my nerves. Or at least I liked to think it was because of nerves, when faced with reality, it was probably just because Paul was so close. Though, Paul did make me nervous, so I could, technically, blame my heart's rapid thrum upon nerves.

Right?

It's rhetorical—please don't answer, because I know what you're thinking: it's Paul.

Sighing I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He's looking exceptionally ticked off today—for what reason, I don't know. Does Paul even need a reason to be angry, my bitchy side quips, he just is. I shake my head inwardly, and damn myself for even caring. Paul isn't anything to me, so what if he was upset or angry over something? Why should I care?

I shouldn't. But we've already covered that enigma. I "shouldn't" a lot of things when it comes to Paul. But that theory has yet to sink in. None the less, I find myself next to an angry Paul in English Class.

My teacher is droning on and on and I just whish they would give me the Sparks Notes version of their lesson plan. I mean, I was an avid reader but Paul's presence had sucked the fun out of English Class—he was just so God damned distracting.

Finally the teacher finished their never ending explanation on the current novel we were reading and commanded us (the class) to get into pairs and discuss the characters, themes, and all that jazz. I never liked that, when teachers made us all pair up. All it did was pair up friends and complete strangers (those were the people who never had partners when everybody got all paired up). I was always the person who got paired with the random kid I didn't even know went to our school.

Fun times.

I look around and watch as friends smile at each other and move to each other's desks. Everyone settles, girls giggling and talking about anything but the book and the guys doing the exact same thing, with exception to the giggling.

Sighing, I am about to ask the girl next to me if she wants to work with me when I hear, "Will you work with me?"

My head whips around to the voice's owner and my heart was all in a frenzy thinking it might be Paul. But my heart's frenzy dies suddenly when I see that it's not Paul—I know, it's pathetic, really. I take in the kid before me, and much to my surprise it's actually a guy.

I fumble for a moment, "Uh, yeah, sure."

The guy sighs in what I assume to be relief and pulls a chair up to my desk, "Thanks, I'm Eli, by the way."

"I'm Bella, and no problem. I should be thanking you, or I would have ended up working with a complete stranger." I reply, smiling.

"And what, I'm not a stranger?" Eli asks, smirking at me.

"Not anymore, you're not. You're Eli." I state and he laughs.

His laugh is warm and welcoming. The kind that I should like, but instead I am wondering what Paul's laugh sounds like. Jesus, someone help me. I have to actively stop thinking about Paul.

"How do you know that?" Eli counters. "I could be a murderer or something."

"Nah," I chuckle. "You don't look it."

"How does someone look like a murderer?"

"They just do." I supply. "I mean, look at Sam Uley's little cult. What's really going on there? I mean, doesn't it look like something more than a close group of friends?"

"I hear it's a gang." Eli whispers, glancing over at Paul, who was talking to our teacher about something.

"You think so?" I ask, looking over at Paul just like Eli did.

"Maybe. But it's freaky. I mean they follow him everywhere. I wonder how he keeps them in line." Eli says, looking back at me.

"I don't know. I don't think it's a gang though."

"No?"

"No. I mean, what kind of gang are they then? The kind that the community likes?" I raise my eye brows as I look at Eli. I mean it was true. The Council liked Sam and his followers, they were the golden boys. They could do know wrong.

"True." Eli sighs. "But I used to chill with Jared, he was cool. He used to laugh at all of that—the Council, the community, Sam Uley. But he's with Sam now. One day we're hanging out, the next he comes down with something and when he's all better he ditches me for Sam."

"Wow." I whisper, filing that information away for later.

"Yeah. When I asked him about why he wasn't hanging out with me anymore he told me to mind my own business." Eli scowls, looking like he was caught in the memory.

"Did you?" I ask, positively itching for some more information.

"Not at first…but you can't force someone to be your friend, right?" Eli asks, looking down at the desk. For some reason my heart clenches for the kid because I know he's probably hurting more than he let's on. I mean, I never had a friend to count on and I couldn't imagine what it felt like to lose one.

"I guess not," I sigh, smiling sadly. "You can't force people to do anything they don't want to do."

Eli nods, "I keep telling myself that but I mean, maybe it wasn't that Jared wouldn't, but that he couldn't."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my eyebrows pulling up into a frown.

"I don't know, it's crazy," Eli pauses, letting out a breath. "But maybe those guys don't hang around Sam because they want to, but because they have to. Like maybe, they're forced to hang around him."

"I don't know, Eli." I mumble, wrestling with his theory.

"Think about it, Bella. I mean, do those guys look happy when they shadow Sam? They're not exactly the most compatible bunch either." Eli says.

"Compatible?" I echo.

"Yeah, compatible. I mean, like a month before Paul joined the ranks he got into a fight with Quil. An actual fight, punches and everything. Then he joins Sam's group and everything's fine."

"Aren't you just a well of information?" I tease, tapping my pen against my lips as I thought about what Eli said.

"That's me, smartest kid on the Reservation." He boasts cheekily.

I laugh, "Okay, how come I've never met you before in my entire life?"

Eli smirks, leaning forward as he stage-whispers, "You didn't meet me because I didn't want you to meet me. I've got a rep to maintain, geniuses only hang out with others of their caliber."

"Are you calling me dumb?" I ask, raising my eyebrows.

"What? I'm talking to you now, aren't I?" Eli quips.

"Oh, so you've updated my status to a genius and are free to associate with me?"

"You can keep up; I knew I was right about you. My genius radar is rarely wrong."

I laugh, shaking my head at him. We settle down and actually begin to talk about the book, recording some of our thoughts just like the teacher asked. I find, through this forced interaction that Eli is a good guy. Or at least I think he is, I mean, I didn't have the best taste—I was pining for Paul. Eli was exactly who I should be crushing on, with his warm personality, light eyes and killer smile. Instead I was carrying a torch for Paul: tall, dark, brooding and handsome.

I seriously think that something is wrong with me.

Instead of focusing on that thought I concentrate on the lack of butterflies in my stomach. I concentrate on the tingles that I am not experiencing. I concentrate on the relaxed thrum of my heart. I concentrate on the fact that Eli is everything that Paul is not, and Eli is not doing a thing for me.

Sighing inwardly I look into Eli's clear ad honest eyes, not holding one secret, and try not to think of Paul.

P ~ B

I, for once, am not eating alone. My book is not my partner in crime this time; instead it is replaced with an actual human being. Eli has chosen to eat lunch with me and I couldn't have been happier. I saw the beginnings of what I hoped to be a friendship with Eli. I couldn't help but be a little excited at this, although part of me was also nervous. What if this was just a one time thing? What if this was a fluke? What if, tomorrow, Eli decided I wasn't a genius?

My anxieties batted against the walls of my stomach as Eli and I walked towards my table. I was so nervous that I didn't even know how to begin a conversation with Eli. In class it had been easy, the conversation borderline effortless. But here in the cafeteria under the florescent lights I was at a loss.

Fortunately Eli was skilled in the art of conversation and asked me about my schedule this year. We made easy small talk until we made it to the table, pausing to sit down. I was about to ask him about his schedule when I noticed he was looking over my shoulder, staring intently.

"Eli?" I say, pulling my apple out of my brown-paper-lunch-bag. He remains silent for another beat before speaking lowly.

"Paul looks like he wants to kill me, something I should know?" He quirks his brow.

Scowling I look back over my shoulder to see Paul paused at the cafeteria's entrance, glaring at Eli. It feels like time freezes when Paul meets my stare. His eyes are darkened by anger and for once fear does not run down my spine; instead I am scorched with the heat of my anger. I glare at Paul, hoping to send a message. Paul clenches his jaw, lips lifting into a snarl ass he glares right back. I hold myself there, refusing to loose any ground that I feel that I have gained. Paul walks into the cafeteria, moving from his post, never taking his eyes off of me. I hold strong, and follow. Paul eventually breaks the binding stare by turning his head and saying something to Quil (who was walking along side him).

I do the same, turning back to Eli. He looks at me with curious eyes, and I roughly bite into my apple, swallowing before supplying, "That's just Paul."

"Just Paul?" Eli parrots.

"Yes." I tear another chunk out of my apple.

"He doesn't seem to know that he is 'just Paul'." Eli drawls.

"Yeah, I know. I am trying to work on that." I reply, and watch as Paul sits down with Sam.

"Work on it? Is he bothering you?" Eli asks, his lips molding into a grim line.

My heart thuds in my throat, "No."

"No?"

I don't even know why I said no. I mean, that had been my chance. It had been my moment, my time to tell someone that yes, Paul was bothering me. That I was halfway to insanity because of him. But instead, for some reason, something told me to keep whatever was happening with Paul quiet. For some reason, an instinct rang clear within, pushing me to hide Paul, protect.

"No," I repeat firmly, meeting Eli's disbelieving stare. "Nothing, we just had a simple misunderstanding."

"Okay," Eli drags the word out. "Whatever you say."

I smile at Eli, and we move on easily. I ask him about his schedule and his likes and dislikes. I basically get to know Eli, on the surface anyway. For I know that nothing is as it seems.

P ~ B

Eli is simple.

Eli is easy.

Eli is kind.

Eli is sweet.

Eli is not Paul.

Eli isn't dark.

Eli's eyes are light at as a summer's day.

Paul's are a cold winter's night.

Eli is what I should want.

But I don't.

I want the cold.

I want the dark.

I want Paul.

Thoughts such as these rattle around in my mind as the fading rays of summer give way to the harsh winds of fall. Eli and I formed an easy friendship under the changing leaves of autumn. He makes me laugh and smile all the time and I know that this is what friendship is.

Our friendship also formed under the watchful gaze of Paul. He watched our every move, well more importantly, my every move. He watched quietly from a distance, but I wasn't fooled. I didn't think that Paul was simply letting go, I knew by the look of him that something was keeping him from talking to me. I wanted to relish in it but I hardly could. I couldn't relish in his silence when it was simply supplemented for with angry, intimidating stares that had me wishing I could disappear. Paul was getting angrier with each passing day and I knew I was in trouble. Paul was building up to something and I didn't know what or how to stop it. Part of me knew that Eli was not helping the situation, that he, unfortunately, was the main offender in Paul's eyes. I knew, with a strange certainty, that I should cut ties with Eli and spare him from Paul.

But I couldn't, I selfishly clung to my friendship with Eli for a number of reasons. I wanted to maintain my friendship because it was the first and only one I had that was true and good. I wanted to prove that I could do what ever I wanted, that I was my own person to Paul. It may make me a bad person for taking advantage of Eli like this, but how could I not; when he was the pen I wrote my message to Paul with?

But Eli took away the pain. Eli took away the anxious jitters that were worsening with each passing day. Eli made a lot of things better for me, how could I let go of him? I couldn't.

However, I knew, within my aching heart, that I should retract my hold and return to my solitary life before my friendship with Eli. As much as my head knew this, repeated this, my heart differed and held fast and steady to the new boy in my life.

The new boy, who should be all my wants and wishes made of bone and skin—is not. He is not who makes my heart flutter when he looks at me. He does not awaken butterflies in my stomach when he is near. He does not cause my heart to burn with life at the very sight of him. No, Eli does none of these things. Instead, it is my quiet Dark Knight sets me aflame.

I know what a silly girl I am. I know it with every breath I take, with every step I make, I know. This thought burns me to the core, and I damn Paul for doing this to me. For I know it his twisted web that has me ensnared and confused.

P ~ B

I know that my time with Eli has run out when Paul finds me in the library. I'm far back, out of reach and out of sight from everyone else when I see him coming up the aisle of books. I stand their frozen, like a deer in the headlights at the mouth of the aisle and watch as Paul comes for me. I turn to my left and break out in a quick walk, trying to get away.

I dodge my way through the aisles, and give a girly shriek of fear when I feel a hot hand grab my bicep and yank me backwards. I slam back into Paul's hard chest with nothing more than a resigned whimper.

"You can't escape me, Bella," Paul says, twisting me to face him. "You should know that by now."

I feel fear swell up inside of me, twisting my gut as I face Paul. I can't help but notice his attire: he is wearing all black, like the Grim Reaper, I think wryly. I meet his eyes and get sucked back in: all I feel is his touch, his breath fanning across my face, his eyes on me. My body flames before him, coming into life—it feels that way, when Paul touches me. It feels as though I am in this weird limbo until Paul is near, until Paul touches me, looks at me. I choke on the breath passing through my lips and wait for him to say more.

"I've been watching you," He murmurs, his eyes flaring with anger. "I've had enough. You like that boy don't you?"

"Eli," I whisper. "His name is Eli."

"I don't care who he is," Paul snaps, sliding his hand up from my bicep. His hot hand follows the curve of my shoulder and modest slope that leads to my neck. His hand curls around the side of my neck, his thumb resting over my pulse point. It thrums harder and faster under it and Paul smirks before saying, "I've been generous, my Bella. I have let you laugh and smile with this boy but enough is enough. I won't stand by and watch it any longer. You're mine and that boy is looking at you as though you are his."

I don't believe Paul for one second and my stomach twists with rage at his assumed ownership. I want to argue but my mind as gone slack under his touch. My mind is fogged with the heat of his hand and my eyes flutter, drooping closed without permission.

"No," I refuse weakly, trying to move away. "No."

I stumble and Paul lets me trip backwards into the shelves of books behind me. The metal digs into my back and Paul shows no sympathy when he steps forward to say, "It's not up to you, Bella. You'll get rid of that boy by the end of the day if you know what's good for you. If you refuse, I'll get rid of him for you, and we both know you don't want that."

I gape at Paul and I know he is being serious. I know that he will get rid of Eli if I don't and this rage swells up inside of me that I am shocked at its intensity. It burns in my belly as lower my voice to say, "No."

Paul just laughs and begins to walk away. But I won't let him this time.

I grab his wrist and hiss, "No. I determine who is in my life and I have chosen Eli. I will have him in my life whether or not because it is not up to you. I decide, not you. It shouldn't matter at all anyway who I surround myself with to you, Paul. You made that very clear when you told me that we weren't friends or anything, when you called me fat and ignored me for the past month."

He looks down at me, shock and fury swimming in his eyes, "I wasn't ignoring you, I had no choice. But I do now."

No choice? What did he mean, 'no choice'?

"No choice?"

"I have the choice now and I will not stand by any longer and watch you and that boy." Paul spits.

"Eli." I say firmly, "His name is Eli."

"It doesn't matter," Paul jerks his wrist out of my grasp. "You would be better to forget him altogether than to make me remember his name. He won't be anybody after today; he will be that boy to you."

"No!" I counter. "He will be Eli. He will be my friend. He will be much more than that boy for today and tomorrow and until I see fit."

For once, it is I who leaves Paul behind. It is me who ends the conversation with an exit, not Paul. I walk down the aisle, not looking back once, and promptly leave the library. My anger burns but pride swells and is felt above all else as I bask in my triumph over Paul. It may be small, but it sends a thrill through me none the less.

My anger still simmers inside of me, whispering encouraging messages that have me nearly marching out of the library to their victorious tune. But my high came to an immediate halt when I saw Eli walking down the hall. He catches me staring and smiles at me, wide and brilliant. I don't smile back because my insides are all tight and twisted.

Can I really put this boy at risk?

Am I so selfish to do so?

I didn't know in that moment and I didn't want to. I wanted to keep Eli in my life just like I said I would, damn near proclaimed I would, but somehow when faced with the reality, it felt so much greater than I imagined. Would I really risk Eli just to prove something?

But the bigger question what were the consequences of denying Paul?

How severe would they be?

I didn't know.

Would Eli be harmed because of me?

Would Paul hurt Eli?

Too many questions and not enough answers had my head spinning and I greeted Eli weakly, "Hey."

"Hey," He smiles again, and my gut twists. This boy deserved a better friend than me. "You okay?"

His concerned eyes make me want to be sick for even considering putting him at risk.

"No. But I will be."

And I would.

I'd listen to Paul, do as I was told and spare Eli from Paul.

But more importantly, I spare him from something much worse.

I'd save him from me.

The worst friend he'll ever have.

P ~ B

It's the end of the day and my heart is heavy with dread as I cross the parking lot to my truck Bessie (Paul actually fixed it, again). The sky is dark with heavy clouds and I feel my crap-tastic Friday is damn near complete when I see Eli standing in front of Bessie, hands stuffed in his pants pockets.

I approach slowly, and gather all the courage I can.

"Hey!" Eli greets, and it feels like my heart is breaking. I know that this may be the last time I ever speak to Eli if I follow my orders. I know I'll miss him deeply. I'll miss his smile and his eyes and his laugh and him. I'll just miss Eli.

"Hi," I mumble, looking down at my feet.

"So I was thinking that we should hang out tonight," Eli says, and I am about to refuse when he continues. "We should go to that party on the beach tonight."

"A party? Me and you?" I ask dumbly instead of saying no like I should have.

"Yes, a party. It's a social gathering in which people come together, usually to celebrate something." Eli quips.

I don't laugh like I usually would. "No."

Eli's easy smile falters, "No?"

I shake my head, pursing my lips.

"It's okay, we can do something else. Go to the diner. Maybe even catch a flick at Port Angeles?" He rambles off and I cringe inwardly, this was going to be hard.

"I don't really feel like doing anything tonight, Eli. I've got a ton of homework and I just want to be alone." I speak quietly.

"C'mon, Bella," Eli whines. "You've got all weekend! Hang out with me! We can do anything you want!"

Maybe it was because I just wasn't ready to let Eli go but my resolve was weakening.

"Eli," I whine back. "No. I just can't."

"Yes you can. I'm not taking no for an answer. We are hanging out tonight. I'm coming by your place at six." Eli grins, walking away and I feel a smile forming in response.

He leaves me there: resolve crushed and broken. I know I'm playing with fire, purposely ticking Paul off and putting Eli at risk. But I can't help it. I know I should have shut Eli down, told him no, refused every offer. But I didn't.

Sighing I move to get into my truck but I am stopped when I hear, "What part of get rid of do you not understand? I thought I made myself clear."

I jump and spin around to see Paul. I nervously tuck a strand of hair behind my ears and say, "I don't respond to threats."

"It wasn't a threat. It was an order." Paul snapped, glaring at me.

"Piss off, Paul." I bite back, scowling at him.

"Bella, Bella, Bella," Paul sighs, disappointment marring his deep voice. "Don't make me do something I don't want to do."

I remain silent and look away, trying to keep the guilt at bay. Would Eli get hurt because of me? Would Paul hurt Eli because I didn't listen? I looked at Paul and mumbled, "Just give me until Monday, please?"

Paul considers it for a moment, "Fine. Monday."

He saunters off then, leaving me alone.

I take a deep breath in and look across the parking lot. I find Eli easily, his brown mop of hair currently encased in his car. My heart aches at the thought of having to let our friendship go but I know that it is better than risking subjecting him to Paul. I get into my truck and make the long drive home.

I know I should just ignore Paul and his orders but something told me he didn't make empty threats. I wanted to ignore Paul, but my fear was back and I didn't want to drag anyone who didn't belong there into Paul and I's drama. I didn't want Eli to end up getting hurt just because I didn't know how to let go.

Sighing I come to a smooth halt in my driveway. I sit there for a moment and try to gather myself. I knew within my heart that I would miss Eli terribly but I knew my heart would hurt with something much more than loss if Eli was hurt because of me.

I grab my bag and get out of my truck, closing the door behind me. I make my way up the steps, easily slipping through the front door into the quiet, empty house. My parents were always out, away from home. My mom was addicted to her work and my Dad was always away to avoid the empty house. Where did that leave me?

Alone.

In the very empty house.

I toss my keys onto the table near the door and kick my Converse off. They hit the floor with a loud smack that only seems to emphasize the hollow quality of my house. I make my way up to the bedroom, the creaky complaints of the stairs my only company.

I set my bag down in my room once I reach it and turn on my computer. It hums to life, its black screen coming to life too with delicious electricity flowing through it. I sit down on my computer chair and begin to get lost in the World Wide Web.

It was quite pathetic, really, how I could plunk myself down in this computer chair every day and zone out. But it was nice, in a way. I could just turn myself off and click away as I blocked out the silence of my house and other things that I preferred not to think about. Like ending my friendship with Eli.

I am halfway through my transformation into a Computer-Zombie when I hear someone at the door. The loud knock rips through the wooden door and bounces through my house. I look down at the clock and see that it's already six o'clock. My stomach slowly sinks and I know it's Eli waiting out there.

My hands begin to shake and I look down at them horrified. The anxious jitters were becoming more common now and I didn't like it. It had been happening for the past month now and I was starting to wonder if I should talk to someone about it. I didn't have time to ponder as there was another knock at the door.

For a moment I briefly considered ignoring Eli altogether and just getting rid of him that way but I just couldn't do it. I am up and out of my computer chair within seconds, descending the stairs quickly as I call, "One second!"

I open the door, revealing Eli rocking back and forth on his heels. He smiles at me and I open the door wider as a sign for him to come in.

"I thought you weren't home for a second there. Trying to ignore me, Swan?" Eli teases.

My heart thuds and I laugh without humor at the accuracy of his guess.

Eli follows me into the kitchen and I ask, "Want anything to drink?"

"Nah, I'm okay." Eli replies and settles on one of the kitchen stools, watching as I grabbed a can of soda out of the fridge.

"So," Eli says, dragging out the syllable. "What do you want to do tonight?"

"I don't know. Make something to eat, watch a movie?" I offer, opening up the can of soda.

"Awesome. What movie do you want to watch?" Eli asks, eyes dancing with his options. That's one thing Eli liked about coming over to my house: my DVD collection was impressive, according to him at least. Eli was a real film buff and would watch everything and anything.

"You pick. You know where the movies are."

Eli jumps off the stool and leaves me in the kitchen to go and look at the selection of DVDs I've collected in the living room. I think about what we should have to eat and call, "How do you feel about pizza?"

"I don't know, I've never met pizza before!" Eli calls back cheekily and I roll my eyes.

"We're having it for dinner." I declare and he voices no objection.

I pull out the frozen pizza from the freezer and set it out on the table. I put it in the oven once its all heated up and leave the kitchen to go see what movie Eli has chosen for us to watch.

I walk into the living room and plunk myself down onto the couch against the wall and ask, "What's the verdict?"

"The jury is still out, trying to decide between Jennifer's Body and Cop Out."

"Well you can never go wrong with anything directed by Kevin Smith." I advise, preferring Cop Out if given the option of choice. But it was Eli's choice tonight, not mine.

"Yeah, I guess," Eli mumbles, looking down at the two DVDs in each of his hands. "I don't know…"

"Just put in Jennifer's Body, Eli. I know that's the one you want to watch." I tease, knowing about Eli's crush on Megan Fox.

Eli smiles widely and sets Cop Out back on the shelf before setting up the DVD player and putting the movie of his choice inside.

He sits down on the couch next to me on the couch and I glance at him from the corner of my eye. I know I'll miss this kid but I can't think about that now, it's too late to turn back. Instead I turn my attention back to the television and watch the movie.

After a little bit I get up and check on the pizza. It's ready so I pull it out of the oven and bring it through to the living room. Eli quickly grabs a slice not taking his eyes off the screen.

"It's hot." I say.

"Ouch! I burnt my tongue!"

"I told you it was hot."

"I didn't hear you."

"No, you were to busy eyeing Megan Fox."

"P-Shh, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Okay, Eli." I drawl sarcastically.

He remains silent, before blowing on his pizza and taking a bite. I return to watching Jennifer's Body and let my slice of pizza cool off. I watch the movie, only jumping out of my skin once. Before I know it I am watching the credits roll across my television's screen.

It's only eight o'clock and I ask, "Another movie?"

"Nah, I was thinking we should do something else."

"Like?"

"Maybe go to that party?"

"Eli," I groan. "I am not going to that party."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Why?" Eli repeats, confused.

"Because I don't belong there, parties aren't my thing."

"Fine, we don't have to go."

"I never said that you couldn't go. You can go without me if you want."

"What?" Eli says. "No. If you're not going, I'm not going either."

"Eli," I sigh. "Don't limit yourself. If you want to go, you should."

"The party won't be fun without you. Besides, that's what friends do. We stick by each other."

My heart twists at his words and I wonder if I'll be able to let him go cleanly, smoothly, without any mess. I couldn't hand much more mess, I was already one.

Eli and I watch another movie, and I'm yawning as I walk him to the door. I am hit with the thought this is the last time Eli and I will be hanging out, watching movies together. My gut twists and I open the door for him, stepping out onto the porch.

It's dark out and the crickets are chirping loudly. Eli stands there for a moment, nervously running a hand through his hair.

"Have you ever really liked someone, even though you know you shouldn't?" Eli exhales shakily.

My heart thuds. "Yes."

He steps a bit closer to me, looking at me like I've never been looked at before.

"Have you ever wanted something so bad, that you're willing to risk just about anything to get it?"

My lungs tighten, making it harder to breathe.

Paul's face flashes before me in my mind without permission.

"Yes."

Eli is so close right now that I can count the freckles on his nose.

He's coming in closer and just when there is a breath between the two of us I whisper, "Eli."

Eli doesn't reply.

His lips are on mine.

My eyes widen in shock and my heart thuds even faster.

But it hurts.

Kissing Eli feels wrong.

My stomach lurches and I jerk back.

"No," I murmur.

My stomach sinks at the look on Eli's face.

Because in this instant we both know that it's not his lips I want.

I feel horrible but I know that this is my chance.

This is the knife I can use to sever ties with Eli.

Without even knowing it, Eli has given me the perfect weapon to hurt him with.

"Go, Eli." I step back.

"I'm sorry, Bella…"

"Go." I feel the tears pressing at the back of my eyes.

"We can forget this. I can forget this." He pleads.

"Go!" I order, spinning around and taking refuge inside my empty house.

I rest against the back of the door, and foolishly touch my lips.

They don't feel any different.

It hadn't really been a kiss, if I thought about it. Just a quick meeting of lips and then it was over. But however short it was, it hadn't felt right, if that made any sense. My reaction certainly wasn't right, was it?

I hear Eli leave, and I step back out onto the porch. I watch as he leaves, the tail lights of his car fading quickly with the distance that is growing between us. I am about to go back inside, mid-turn actually, when I see a light go off in Embry's house. Now, I know it is completely normal; lights go off in houses all the time. But something was different. The light went off quickly, right when I looked up.

Feeling shaken and scared I reenter the house.

But something told me it had Embry watching.

Had he seen Eli and I?

Would he tell Paul?

In the quiet darkness of my house I knew Embry would.

P ~ B

I show up at school on Monday early, having woken up at four in the morning. It's eight o'clock now, and school doesn't start for another half hour. I know I should have stayed at home, but I couldn't.

My whole weekend had consisted of me trying not to enter into a panic attack. I was worried that Eli had told Paul and was waiting for something. I was waiting for Paul's reaction, violent and angry as I knew it would be.

Paul had been angry that I had been talking to Eli.

Never mind kissing him.

But I hadn't kissed him.

Not really.

My hands trembled lightly in fear of Paul and I clenched them into fists. It was utterly quiet in the school's parking lot, and I looked around carefully, only seeing two other cars. I pull out my I-Pod from my bag and put the ear buds in, and listen to my music on low.

I close my eyes and wish it all away.

I wish that Eli hadn't kissed me.

I wish that I had wanted Eli to kiss me.

I wish that I was normal.

I am about to really crank my pity party into high gear when I see Paul's car roll into the parking lot. My heart thuds rapidly, wildly, as if it is trying to break free. My trembling hands begin to shake with aggression and I fold them together, clenching my eyes shut.

I grab my bag and get out of the car, hoping that I'll be safer from Paul if I am inside the school. I am halfway there when I see Paul get out of his car. That damn car that got to see my stinging rejection, I immediately hated it. I quicken my pace and am nearly at the school when I feel Paul sling an arm around my shoulder.

I shrug off his arm and he asks, "What's your definition of getting rid of somebody, Bella?"

His tone tells me his question is rhetorical.

"In my dictionary, it doesn't mean you kiss them."

I stop dead in my tracks.

"H-how—" I start but Paul cuts me off.

He mocks me, "H-how, what, Bella?"

My insides twist and I remain silent.

I keep walking; I'm nearly at the school now.

"What? Cat got your tongue? Or does Eli?" Paul taunts cruelly.

My anger rushes forth, mixed with hurt because I had done what he told me to do. I ignored Eli's calls all weekend. I had texted him late Sunday, telling him not to talk to me, to leave me alone. I had gotten rid of him.

"Shut up!" I screech, my voice sounding weak. "I got rid of him!"

"That's not what I heard," Paul grabs my wrist, halting my step. "A little birdie told me you kissed him."

I turn to face Paul; trying to ignore the rapid thrum of my heart and how Paul stopped the trembles I had been enduring.

"After." I whisper. "It was after he kissed me that I got rid of him."

Paul remains silent for a moment before asking, "Did you like it when he kissed you?"

His voice is low and deep and I shudder as it grates against my ears in the most delicious way.

I remain silent, refusing to answer the question.

"Did you?"

He steps closer, and I can feel his heat.

My lungs tighten at his proximity, and it's hard to breathe.

"Answer me, Bella." His lips are at my ear, whispering hotly to me.

I hold back, shaking my head.

"No you won't answer me? Or 'no' you didn't like it when he kissed you?"

God he is so close and it feels so good.

Too good.

His other hand (the one that isn't holding my wrist) slowly slides up my back to cup my neck. His hand is so hot against the nape of my neck and I bite my lip, allowing my eyes to close. I can nearly feel his smirk and I almost die when I feel him breathe against my lips.

Without permission my lips part and my tongue slips out to wet them.

I feel his hand slide up my arm only slide back down, creating a hot path down my back.

He presses me closer.

My eyes open slightly, and I notice that he doesn't have any freckles on his nose.

He smirks at me, tightening the grip he has on the back of my neck, "Let's see if you like it when I kiss you."

His voice is husky and deep and I've barely heard what he's said when I feel his lips on mine. The first thought that flashes through my mind is: Oh my fuck Paul is kissing me and it feels so god damn right. His lips are oddly hot against my own, but I pay no mind and enjoy their soft fullness. He presses his lips more firmly to mine, encouraging me to react. I kiss back, moving my lips in a way that has to be right because it feels so fucking good. It's like my body is alive, humming like when I've drank one to many sodas.

My arms are limp at my sides because I don't know what the hell to do with them. But I can't think about arm and hand placement right now because Paul is kissing me. He slides his hand up into my hair, grabbing at it to tilt my head to a different angle. I comply, and he pulls my lower lip into his mouth, sucking on it. My toes curl inside my Converse and I try to keep the bubbling excitement inside.

He bites down and I feel my breath hiss through my lips at the sharp pain brought to my lower lip. He soothes the burn by sliding his hot tongue along my lower lip. I moan quietly at the back of my throat and I feel Paul's lips turn up slightly.

He pulls away, placing a series of hot, open mouthed kisses against my lips.

I am in a hazy grey fog when he pulls away, sliding his hand out of my hair to grip the back of my neck.

"Never forget, Bella," Paul murmurs against my lips. "That you're mine and that only I can do that."

He steps away then and I can finally think straight.

He walks away to reveal Eli.

Who saw the kiss.

Who can see me now.

Lips swollen and in a daze.

The look on my face confirms that I have gotten rid of him for sure.

Or that Paul has for me.

My gut twists at the thought, and I know, in that instant, that the kiss didn't mean a thing. Paul was just trying to hurt Eli with the best weapon possible—I—for touching what he believed was his (me).

My heart hurts at the look on Eli's face but I let him breeze by me.

But the only thing I can think of is that Paul had used me for his own needs.

He would have been better off pissing on me to show Eli that I was his.

That was the scary part that had my heart thudding:

I almost believed him.

I almost believed him when he said that I was his, because in that instant it felt that way.

It felt like I was Paul's.

P ~ B

A/N: So? What do you all think? Moving too quick? Too slow?

Let me know.

Sorry for taking so long to update but this chapter was a bit of a challenge to write.

Playlist:

Swimming—Florence and the Machine

Falling—Florence and the Machine

A Kiss with a Fist—Florence and the Machine

Drumming Song—Florence and the Machine

Heads Will Roll—Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Baby There's a Shark in the Water—V.V. Brown

Cold War—Janelle Monae

Basket Case—Green Day

Was the chapter worth the wait? Tell me if it was or not in a review, please!

Until next time!