I'm trying to update at least 2 chapters a day… it's fast since I had this story written already, and I'm uploading what I have, but it's not quite finished… in the meantime, enjoy!

The rest of the week passed in a blur. In between my waking moments, heavy with exhaustion, there were only a few things that stood out clearly—sleeping, eating, and Jacob.

I spent most of my days knocked out on the couch. I would stay up late, as usual—my whole family was like night owls. I could stay up so late it was actually early—enough to watch the winter sun rise mistily on the water. I would then go to bed, and wake up just in time for lunch. During the afternoons, I would suddenly hit sleepy pockets, where I would crawl to the nearest couch and take a nap. If everyone was watching TV on the sofas, I would simply curl up on the carpeted floor, like a cat. If I hadn't known otherwise, that kind of exhaustion couldn't possibly have indicated good things about my health. When Renée asked me why I was so tired, I mumbled something about how the last month of the college's semester had been particularly demanding. I hoped she wouldn't notice how my lie made my face turn red.

Mealtimes were absolute hell. Vacationing on the coast, my family couldn't resist the endless supply of seafood. I was not only able to resist it, but avoided it. I hated Rosalie and Jasper's penchant for shrimp. The sole smell of it cooking was horribly nauseating. Other types of food weren't much better for my weakened stomach. I got by on lots of macaroni and cheese, crackers, and turkey sandwiches. There wasn't a lot that didn't make my stomach turn, and I worried about eating right for the baby. I ate most of my meals on the balcony as well. The sea air was about the only thing that didn't make me want to throw up.

I spent a lot of time on that balcony, musing, imagining, dreaming. I walked down the beach whenever I could, when the wind wasn't too cold or rainy. Despite the obstacles, my will prevailed; I didn't throw up again for the rest of the trip.

Every time I had a clear thought, free from dizziness or sleep, Jacob's face would cross my mind. I imagined him back home, maybe worried about us (that plural that tended to creep into my vocabulary now, a lot). We couldn't call each other at all, and the long separation was making me very anxious. Keeping up with my little daydreams and tender baby thoughts, other nagging doubts assailed me. Given what I already knew about Jacob's past and our relationship, I couldn't help but feel frustrated that he hadn't immediately come over to see me that night, hadn't offered to meet and talk the very next day. I tried my best to smother these thoughts—they did nothing for my frame of mind.

I didn't know if he felt the same, and I couldn't wait to return home so I could see him. He hadn't seen me since I had told him the news; I wondered if when he saw me, he would notice anything different about my face, see anything in my eyes. I began to wear Jacob's bracelet, his birthday gift to me. He belonged to the Quileute tribe, living in La Push, and the bracelet was a version of a promise ring. Every time I heard it clink softly on my wrist, it made me feel almost like he was there with me.

--

After New Year's Day, we headed back to Forks. The return ride home wasn't as bad as the first trip. The nausea barely made an appearance, but a new whirling dizziness hovered on the edges of my consciousness, making my head ache; I came close to passing out a couple of times, but managed to sit down with my head between my knees before it got too bad. I worried about the increasing intensity of my symptoms. Surely it was only a matter of time before someone noticed, and put two and two together.

The moment we crossed the threshold, I sprinted for my room. Clutching the phone in my hand, I decided to hide out in the closet again, and locked the door. I dialed his home number, feeling it might be too long a conversation for cell phone rates. I wanted to know if he had done as I asked, and found us a doctor. Somehow, that would be the first step towards making it all real for me, despite what the pregnancy test already claimed. I prayed he would answer, like he usually did, but worried that his father might pick up instead.

But I was in luck this time. "Hello?"

"Hi, it's me. Happy New Year."

"Hey, you're back," Jacob said. I couldn't decipher anything from his tone.

"Yeah, we just got in, like this second. I couldn't wait to talk to you."

"How was the beach?"

"Humid. Freezing. Mostly I just felt really sick though."

"How are you feeling now?"

I sighed. "Like crap, actually. I'm dizzy all the time, like I'm going to faint, or else I just feel like throwing up left and right. But I won't let myself do that—the vomiting thing, you know." I was babbling now. Better get to the point. "Jacob? I wanted to ask you, did you get a chance to find a doctor? Did you make any calls?"

There was a moment of flat silence on the other end.

"Well, er… actually, Bella, I'm sorry, I didn't get around to that."

My fingers curled around the phone. My little test had failed.

"How come?"

"I guess I just didn't feel comfortable, doing it myself, I don't know. I'm sorry. I had a lot to think about too."

I took a deep breath. "Fine. I'll call." I didn't mean to sound upset, but I knew he would hear it.

"I'm really sorry."

"It's okay. But you will come with me to the appointment, right?"

"Yeah, I'll go with you." Jacob's tone was relieved.

"I'll let you know when then. I should go as soon as possible."

Jacob didn't say much after that. The conversation sort of died on the line, with nothing concrete to settle on. I felt guilty for cornering him, and he felt the same (and a little defensive) for not fulfilling my only request. The only thing we managed to agree upon was that we would work on telling our parents, figuring out the right time. Just thinking about that set my stomach sinking again.

I needed a plan.

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