Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or New Moon. Couldn't afford to buy it even if Stephenie Meyer wished to sell.(Like that will ever happen)

A/N: Super short chapter. Sorry! Can't decide right now whether to add on or jump to Edward's point of view... I should so be writing a paper that's due tomorrow.

By the time I pulled the last tray of cookies out of the oven, it was nearly ten-thirty. My feet ached, and my stomach hurt terribly. I'd eaten far too many cookies, but I hadn't been able to help myself. I supposed I didn't have too much to be worried about though: Jacob had told me again and again (jokingly of course) that I had lost an obscene amount of weight. Of course, he'd never mentioned what circumstances it had been under. He never did. I couldn't help but wonder what I'd looked like at the time, but it was most likely gaunt and worn.

I nearly couldn't help laughing at the mental image that popped into my head: I looked like some kind of desperate criminal.

I peeked out of the kitchen to check on Charlie. His chin was currently resting on his chest while the colors on the TV swam together and reformed into the gaudy images of commercials. He wasn't so different from my mother: I still had to tell the both of them when to go to bed.

How much had it really hurt him, when she'd left? I didn't think he'd ever even dated anyone since. I found myself selfishly wishing that he wouldn't, not while I was here, because that would be just too awkward. Perhaps Charlie would find someone, someday. He deserved to be happy.

I glanced at the clock. Even thinking of happiness led my mind to Edward. It would be awhile before he arrived: enough time for me to convince Charlie to go to bed and have a "human minute".