And All for Me, to Me, You Sue

Chapter 10: Predicaments

"Jacob!" someone was screaming near me. "Jacob, what's wrong? Jacob, what's wrong! Jacob!" The voice was awfully familiar and so was something else. I tightened my eyes while I tried to grasp a memory from which the owner of that voice might have been entailed. It was a ravaging effort to do so – my head felt like the little tomato cushion that my grandmother used to stick needles to while sewing. It was impossible to register any of my thoughts, and I wasn't sure whether that was because nothing was coming to me or because there were too many things at once. In the back of my mind, however, was an overpowering feeling, as if I was purported to remember something unimaginably prominent.

"No! Jacob! Jacob, talk to me!" It was a female voice. She was gasping the words as she shrieked it against my ear. Panic was evident in her voice, which was neither that of a woman's or a girl's – a teenager. She was close – I could both hear and feel the quiver as she spoke. And she was mentioning Jacob. Could it really be my Jacob? If so, what happened…? What was happening to Jacob, and so horribly so as to insert so much fear in the young woman's voice?

"Jacob!" She screeched his name desperately and it pierced my ears – and more, my heart – in such a way that was more than the result of mere sound. I jumped. My heart was pacing as though it was running uneven tracks inside my chest, unable to beat and venturesome as it swelled without air. In my mind was yet another race, blaring thoughts and memories coursing swiftly around, swirling in such a discombobulated state that scratched a heavy grief against my skull, like running fingernails on a blackboard. I seized my head in alarm just as the girl nearby began to scream hoarsely in what sounded like pain of her own. I could feel her thrashing about as she tranquilized her unnamed aching.

I abruptly shot my eyes open and an image of a familiar car flashed across my head, like my eyes had been the lens that which just snapped its picture. And then strips of images filmed past my eyes in a vivid fleet of recent memories – Jake's garage, the midnight and crimson twin bicycles, Jake's lips caressing my cheek and his arms encircled around me in a tender embrace, his sudden grip on my shoulders, how he'd thrown me into the interior of his Porsche, myself as I held onto his struggle, our mysterious audience and Sam Uley… Jacob!

"Bella!"

Suddenly, my heart felt like it snapped back into place roughly within my chest and I inhaled a heavy gasp of air, as though I've just been suddenly resurrected from death and it's been my first intake of breath for the years that I've been dead. A hand grasped my shoulder and I blinked tightly for a brief moment before securely twisting my head to random direction, my eyes wide as I searched my surroundings as well and as quickly as I could. But my surrounding was the least I could have worried about – I was in my room, safe in the confines of my comforters, which were now a deep beige color with dark brown patterns near the front hems. For a second, I panicked at the strange room, with a triangular corner desk and some foreign-looking table next to – did I mention? – this gigantic, wooden bed, and the beautiful, antique lamps. Once the face of a persistent, gorgeous boy penetrated through my panic, however, I was finally able to take a rational, normal breath of air.

A dream. Had it all just been a dream? Everything was such a blur that had it actually been a dream, I wouldn't have been able to differentiate which part was a dream and which part was reality. Nevertheless, I sighed at the familiar site that now besieged me.

"Bella, honey," my dad was whispering soothingly beside me, his hands now rubbing my shoulders to calm me down. "Easy, Bella, easy, honey. You're okay, sweetheart, you're safe. I'm here."

I'd already settled down, but Charlie's fatherly words kept me aground. His willing protection as a parent was more than just that, but also as someone who simply cares, and that always counts for something. But something was still of clear uncertainty to me.

"Dad, who were—Or, were there anybody here with you? Uh, Jacob—Was Jacob here with you, and anybody else? A girl?" Even to myself, the words had all came out sounding silly – Obviously not.

Charlie's expression was bewildered. "Um, no, there isn't anybody else here, nor was anyone here with me," he explained.

"Oh," I breathed, my eyes narrowed in wonder, "Okay. I'm sorry; it must have been a dream then."

"It's alright, honey," Charlie reassured as he patted my knee through my covers, "Why don't I get you something to drink, okay? Would water be alright? Do you want some juice?"

"Um," I staggered, my mind still aching when I try to think, "Water's good."

"Alright," Charlie said as he heaved himself up from the edge of my bed and proceeded toward the door. I was busy examining the dark patterns on my sheets, exploring through my thoughts, when he turned around and assured me, "Don't put too much thought into it, Bells. It's just you and I here," and with that, he was gone.

You and I… You… Me. Me! That mysterious girl screaming Jacob's name had been me, in my sleep. That must mean that her… my panic over Jacob had been real. I was suddenly imbued with such a declaring bafflement, which at the same time was more a realization than anything. My solitary reenactment of what had gone on this morning – or was it this morning – had been all the reminder I needed. Jacob was hurting, something extreme had been bothering him, and I'd stupidly been knocked unconscious. My head ached with the actuality of the situation and the memories of that morning with Jacob once again materialized through my mind in a much more accepted and realistic manner. A myriad of emotions substituted my conflicting thoughts, all of which centered on my dolorous concerns over Jacob. More than the physical pain in my head was the mental infuriation I felt toward not being able to understand any of what had gone on and how I'd ended up here in my room – and safe, for that matter, when Jacob was well on his way to having been claimed mental.

My breath scattered once more and I pumped my head in an attempt to catch it while I clutched the sheets roughly. I was shaking terribly and everything began to swirl smoothly around me, like stirred liquid cream. All of a sudden, the door swung open and the swirling halted. Everything was quick to melt back into place, as though shy, and were now only mere blurs through my eyes. I threw a glance toward the door where my father stood, carrying a small tray, though I could hardly translate his expression due to my damaged vision. I watched wildly as he immediately set the tray down on the beautiful nightstand and sat on the bed beside me.

"Bella? Bella, honey," he addressed as he shook me lightly by my shoulders.

"Dad. Dad, Jacob… He—Dad…," I stammered uneasily, my voice overflowing with panic and fear for my best friend.

"Honey, calm down. Calm down, Bella. Jacob's fine, just fine. He's at home, well and safe, with his dad. He just received a terrible stomach virus is all and Billy believes it will wear off with a little rest," he explained patiently, now rubbing my shoulders up and down in honest assurance toward the situation.

And I did feel assured – at least, a little more than I was. Jacob was safe, he was alright. My heart stopped, but in a good way, and my breathing became much easier to rebut with. I sighed in relief and it felt so wonderfully normal.

"And me – what happened to me?" I asked earnestly.

"You fainted, Bells, which the doctor said was just out of shock. He said you should be back up and running with a little rest, too."

"And how long have I been resting?"

"Well, you fainted yesterday morning and it's now," he consulted his wrist watch which I'd recognize anywhere, considering how I've never seen him take it off since I was all bottles and full diapers, "four in the afternoon of Monday, so just about a day and a half."

"A day and a half? How about school? And why aren't you at work? You shouldn't be off until seven," I paced in panic.

"Easy, Bella, you just woke up. I called in at your school, told them you'll be gone for an unknown amount of days and explained to them what had happened. I'm also thinking that you shouldn't attend school tomorrow, just to be safe and to have you running back up in full charge. As for me, I called in at work, of course. I couldn't possibly have left you here all alone now, could I?" He smiled as he kissed me softly on the forehead rather hesitantly – he hasn't done that since I was a little girl. "You rest up now, but be sure not to worry me so much again and wake up. I'm getting old, you know, Bells?"

I smiled faintly at him – it was both real and weak. "Alright. Thanks, Dad." I still wasn't sure what more I was capable of saying, especially when my thoughts have been limited by my overpowering colony of emotions.

"Call on me if you n—," he began to say before the phone rang demandingly downstairs. "I'll be right back, honey."

Once my dad was out of sight, I started to recollect myself once again – emotions, thoughts, memories, and all. Doing so in front of my dad may have triggered some uncomfortable questions if my mind starts leaking through my expression. I attempted to organize my thoughts with my feelings, connecting the right emotion with which thought, and then attaching them to its proper memory. It was a confusing effort, but not a pointless one. By the time I heard my dad yell, "Bella, it's for you!" from downstairs, I've concluded that I needed to talk with Jacob. In simple fact, everything about this particular circumstance with Jacob's abrupt illness and my unconsciousness was tearing me apart.

I forced myself out of bed, slipped on a jacket that was hanging off the post of my bed – for some reason, I was frosty cold – and then headed down the stairs, careful with my balance as I did so. By the time I got around to the kitchen, my dad was already saying, "I'm sorry, she's taking a while. Actually, she might not be feeling well enough to come downstairs yet—" to my caller.

"Dad, it's alright, I got it," I assured him with a gentle tap on his shoulder.

He considered this before handing me the phone. "Well, alright. I'll be in the living room if you need anything."

"Thank you," I said as I turned my eyes toward the ancient, square-tiled flooring. "Hello?" I spoke into the receiver.

"Bella!"

It was no surprise that it had been Jessica – I suspected as much from her if I missed school when, after all, I rarely do. Nevertheless, I was actually very thankful for the realistic familiarity her voice provided.

"Bella, where were you today?" she asked frantically.

"Calm down. I just, uh, woke up kind of late and I didn't feel so well," I lied. As much as I appreciated her call, I wasn't in the slightest of moods to tolerate her expected questioning toward the truth.

"Oh, well, are you alright? Are you feeling better? Are you going to school tomorrow?"

Though even without the truth…

"Yes, yes, and no."

"No? Why not? I thought you said you were feeling better," she moaned.

"Better," I emphasized, "But not well. My dad thought it was a good idea that I stay in just an extra day for in-case reasons."

"I guess so," she was considering when the receiver started to signal another caller.

"Hey, I've got to go, alright? I'll see you, um—"

"Wednesday," she finished, "I'll see you there. We all hope you feel better soon. Everyone was concerned about you today."

The awaiting call was impatient against my ears.

"Thank you, and tell everyone else that for me, as well. Bye, Jess, I'll see you then," I quickly said as I clicked over to the other line before the caller decided to call it quits.

"Hello?" I greeted.

"Isabella…"

Callum!

"Callum!" I exclaimed over the phone, holding it tighter in my hands. The heavenly ring of his voice sent pleasant shivers to cascade down my fragile body. It was a comforting sensation that acted as a makeshift relief from all my worries, pains, and fears. I've been with him just two days ago and yet I realized just how much I've missed him.

"Bella, where were you today?" he sounded, concernedly and fearfully so.

"I'll explain when we're together," I promised, unable to lie to him like I had with Jessica, "But for now, Callum—" I felt so stupid once I realized I've actually paused.

"Yes, Bella?" he asked patiently, his voice so elegantly crafted by the gods of chorus.

As if that helped in organizing my thoughts.

"I've missed you," I blurted out, as gently and as sincerely as I could manage at the same time before I changed my mind.

This time, there was a pause on his part. For a second, I thought that might have been too lame to admit, no matter how much truth was dripping from it.

But Callum wasn't like that – he was different, and so pleasantly so.

"As I have you, Bella. I've missed you, too, as I still do," he whispered simply, but not an ounce of hesitation was evident in his voice, even with his small pause. In fact, he sounded like infatuation itself. Callum could never amount to being merely infatuated; he must be infatuation itself for it was like he was too perfect a man to be affected by such silly emotions.

Without thinking, I found myself saying, "Please come over."

And himself, saying, "Give me five minutes."

By six minutes, I was within the comfort of his – could it really be? – longing embrace. It was safe here, more safe to me than anywhere else. As soon as I've flung the door open and found him standing in front of me – true to the point of his promise – I'd thrown myself at him. He opened his arms in time for me to fit myself within the curve of his body and then secured them closed around me, one arm around my waist and the other against the back of my head. If he'd been surprised by my uncharacteristic – as far as character can be maintained with Callum – actions, he was flawlessly imperturbable about it. He held me patiently, careful and gentle as he brushed his cheek against mine before planting a delicate kiss upon my forehead.

"What happened, Bella?" he questioned softly, patience sounding from his voice as though he'd hold me for as long as he needed to, even without reason – or, if Heaven exists, beyond reason.

I hesitantly loosened my hold on him, enough so that I may draw back slightly to meet his frosted golden eyes which glowed lustrously in the gentle light of the full moon. For a second, I thought I saw his nose scrunch up, like he was nailing it away from a pungent smell. I blushed, my cheeks hot from embarrassment as I realized it must have been me; after all, I haven't taken a shower since yesterday morning before I went to visit Jacob. The thought of Jacob did nothing to help my abrupt uneasiness. Suddenly, within a world that's far away from my worries, I felt Callum's stalwart hand cup my chin gently, lifting it slowly so that our eyes would once more lock, and I saw that he was smiling, all evidence of any bothersome smell missing from his handsome expression.

"You look terrific," he stated with a smile.

I let him have it with a smack on his chest, which probably hurt me more than it did him. His sarcasm toward my hurried attire – jeans, a lengthy white shirt, and thick, brown jacket – and raunchy, messy hair was lulled by that smile, which somehow told me that he wasn't half joking. He staggered back a step with a light chuckle and I found myself smiling at him – with him. He had that way about him, of sharing his mood with you. But it's somehow different with Callum than any other person who may have that ability – Callum's was much more serene. I knew that he said that for the sake of my fallen face, to make me smile and forget, even for a while, until I can talk to him about my problem. And then, when that happens, he'll be ready to listen.

"Let's take a walk," I suggested after a while.

He smiled at me sweetly and beckoned the way toward the forest with a tilt of his head. "Come on."

"Dad, I'm going out for a while," I called, turning my head toward my father, who I caught watching us intently but then quickly focused his eyes back on the television and pretended he hadn't been, "I should be back soon, okay?"

He turned toward me, simulating to have been startled. "Huh? Oh, alright," he said as he examined Callum, his eyes tracing down toward our linked hands. "Be safe." It was more of a threat than a warning.

"We will," I assured him as I closed the door behind me.

"Hm," Callum began as we strolled toward the forest, his hand encasing mine firmly, "He'll be difficult."

"My dad? About?" I asked in honest confusion. We were entering the forest by now, traipsing along uncaringly but contently. Being right next to the forest was definitely a plus here at Forks. There wouldn't have been any chance of this occurring to me at Arizona or California or Florida, and frankly, I've grown fond of it – its misty, clean air that breezes past my face, the muddy squealing against my rain boots when it's raining, that indescribably fresh aroma that could only ever be made by nature. In a way, that's how I wish everything could be done – naturally. And in a way, nature has sprung me up from the ground, as well. When the mud was ready to consume me, it was nature – the sun and a little rain, and time – that enabled me to spring my legs up and bloom my arms wide above my head, yawning to witness dawn each morning. I hoped Callum could have been so natural, even when he limpidly belongs up in the sky, part of the elemental cycle that which offers life to those mere of us here on Earth. But more than that, I wished he and I could be a part of nature's plan – he and I together.

I gazed up at him. He was so beautiful, unlike any of the hot guys you might encounter at the beach – he was somehow so much more than that. His features were the tiniest bit feminine, and that somehow only added to the perfection of his looks. Had I been addiction-free, I sure as Hades no longer am.

"Convincing him that I may marry you, of course," Callum quothed, almost sounding hurt by my slight disarray. "By the way he looked at our hands, I thought he'd have sawed mine right then. And soon, I'd be without both."

I laughed at his exaggeration – and his whole idea about marriage, though my flattery from it would forever go unsaid. "Oh, yeah? And why is that?"

"Well," he glanced down at me, a breathtaking smirk playing at the corners of his lips, "Had he taken one of them just for holding your hand, just imagine what he'd do had I asked your hand for marriage – or dare I say when."

"You may dare," I laughed again, and this time, he laughed along with me – more sung while mine was raucous. He was the chorus of the song that nature played. "Besides," I continued, "you might be proven disappointed, had you embedded that expectation in your mind, that he'd be that difficult."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," I was suddenly hesitant to discuss the subject, no matter how lame an attempt I'd made at dismissing the emotions that came with the memory of that man. My heart tolerated one, painful beat at the thought of him. "I'd been hurt before, and just, as a father, I don't think he'd want to see a replay of what I went through, you know?"

Callum was quiet for a while. This was the first time I'd ever so much as hinted of there ever being an Edward, which I wouldn't think would be very imbuing, seeing as Callum was incredibly handsome – he must've had a history with the female population. But Edward was a part of my past – a short, but declaring past that was enough to embody him as a part of me even now, within the most painful depths of my heart and the very back, darkest valleys of my mind.

His grip tightened around my hand, but this time, it wasn't of comfort. I took a glimpse of his face and found that his expression was as taut as his hold on my hand, but needless to say, beautifully so. His eyes were narrowed together and they were a brilliant golden hue, ridden of any yellow shade and simply dominated with a sparkling gold. His pupils were a wide, charcoal color, and they reminded me of depth, the deepest in the ocean. They were dangerous, but exquisite. I gasped lightly and he immediately turned those eyes on me, except they were already its usual shade, like sunflowers when the sun is at its highest of the day. And they were deeply concerned.

"Bella," he whispered.

"Huh?" I sounded, "I'm sorry."

He hesitated. "No, I'm sorry. I must have gotten carried away," he apologized as he turned his face slightly away from me. Somehow, that hurt me and my heart dove deep within my chest with a lethal sting.

"About what, though? I don't understand…," I confessed, grasping his arm so that he may know it's okay to look at me. And so he did, and my heart breathed evenly once again. His eyes were apologetic, and angelic in every way.

"That man, to whom your heart once belonged… and probably still does… It's infuriating to think that he—it's just, he doesn't know just how lucky he was, to have so easily loved and then loved in return. And by you, Bella, who's beautiful and strong – arrogant and sizable in argument – contentious, in fact – but who has such a pristine essence that is still an enigma to me," he uttered every word as though he'd eviscerated a piece of his heart to offer with each one. His eyes were almost pained, but I could tell he was attempting to cast them off, perhaps for my sake that I do not worry. I decided I shouldn't express that I am worried and that I'm confused to a point at his brief explanation. For his sake. The struggle in his eyes was causing me pain, for never would I want to be someone that Callum should hide his feelings from. I don't want him to be afraid of me, not ever.

Instead, I slithered my hand down his arm and onto his hand, lacing my fingers in between his, a perfect imitation of our already linked hands. He glanced down at me, his eyes fuddled but accepting, and his breath panting soundlessly. I smiled soothingly, locking my eyes warmly with his as his own widened briefly before once again turning away, but this time, not for the same reason – whatever that reason was – as before. He was blushing.

"Spare me. I was supposed to be comforting you, remember?" he reminded me and, likely being afraid that I might worry, faced me once again, his fingers curling around mine now.

I chuckled. "What good is concern if it may only travel one way or another?"

He stared at me, slightly wide-eyed, before smiling amorously at me – or so I hoped to God. "You have got to be the most interesting girl I have ever met."

"Mm," I calculated if there was any sarcasm in his tone, "Is that good?"

He chuckled and kissed my forehead softly, and then whispered so that his breath tickled my skin, "Yes, Bella, in such a good way."

"So what's bothering you, hm?" Callum queried as he drew me closer against him. Minutes into aimless trudging along the forest and we've found ourselves in a clear, open lea that was surrounded with deciduous trees and myrtle plants that were divided into a circular and an overall stunning pattern. Callum had led me toward one of the trees, one that was taller and thinner than the rest, and leaned against it as he pulled me back against his chest. He continued to hold my hands when his arms snaked around my waist to hold me, and he rested his cheek against my head in an affectionate and gentle manner. It made me feel at ease to be so close to him, his body cold from the lousy weather but otherwise providing me with internal warmth that was summoned by his arms around me.

The weather was typical – here at Forks, anyway. The clouds feasted ravenously upon the skies, consuming the heat of the sun and overtaking its place high above the mountains. There was no rain, just a mist that floated abundantly around the forest. It gave off a refreshing scent, moist and easy on the nose, and cool, microscopic droplets against my skin.

I shivered – not from the weather, but from Callum's warm breath as it lingered against my ear when he spoke. He was so close.

"I guess I may have just overreacted," I finally said, "Something horribly wrong happened yesterday while I was at my friend, Jacob's, house."

"Yes, I remember him. What happened?"

"Well, we were in his garage and everything was fine. That was until he—I don't know, went berserk, and he grabbed me so tightly and pushed me. My dad said Billy – Jacob's dad – reassured him that it was just stomach virus, but—but, I don't know, something doesn't feel right. Jacob wouldn't have—even when something was terribly wrong. He wouldn't have hurt me," I shook my head unconsciously as I spoke, my eyes narrowed on the ground as I recalled my memory with Jacob the day before, "He was screaming and he was struggling with something. He hadn't grabbed onto his stomach like he was hurt the way they'd said or anything. Like I said, something's wrong – with him and that bullshit story. Or maybe I'm just—" I sighed. I was beginning to sound ludicrous, even to myself. "I'm sorry. Maybe I am just—" Just what? Just what, when nothing made sense and I knew it. I knew it.

Callum didn't say anything for a long time. When I'd taken a peek at him, his eyes were sedate as they stared ahead of him, seeming to see far beyond the trees and at a place where answers lay asleep. His hands tightened around mine, but not roughly – it was almost protective. I was still watching him silently when he'd dropped his eyes slowly to the ground, sighing softly through his nose just before he'd looked at me. His eyes were difficult to encipher, for they carried various emotions – some of which were present without plausible reasons. For instance, while I understand that concern may be one, I don't understand why fear should be, which I believe was deep within the protective layers of the swirling emotions within his eyes.

"No, Bella, I don't believe you're overreacting. It was your friend whom you were concerned about; that isn't unreasonable. How had you gotten yourself out?" he wanted to know.

"I—Well, all I remember was this guy, Sam Uley, and some others standing by the garage. They were just strangely watching, almost too calm – actually, they were completely calm – while Sam separated me from Jacob, saying that he was just in pain. He'd taken me outside, I remember, and next thing I knew I was in my room. I just woke up about twenty minutes before you'd called, actually."

Callum contemplated this and his nose scrunched up like before – just as adorably – as he stared on ahead once more.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked, baffled by his incessant expression.

"It's hard to say," he said after a while, "But I'm sure he'll be alright. I think you're right and that it wasn't much of a stomach virus as they'd said; perhaps they just were just mistaken."

"Maybe," I whispered in consideration, "I was planning to come visit him. I mean, I should. Jacob's my best friend and if he's going through something—and I need to tell them that it might be more than just a stomach thing."

"Listen, Bella, you best give him some time, alright? It just, it sounded very serious," Callum suggested patiently, but with what almost sounded like a disguise to a hidden frantic in his voice. His empyrean voice could be a fallacious guise on any given concept, not to mention his mesmerizing, golden eyes.

"But, Callum, I can't wait. There's something very wrong, and I need to find out – I need to," I exclaimed in near panic, concern for my best friend rising up within me once more, like an awful wave. I turned around to face him, breaking my hands away from his as I did so. Though I was aware of how much I missed them, I didn't have time and refused to think about it now. I wanted to see Jacob and know – know ­for myself – that he's okay – that he's just perfect, or that at least he will be. "If they don't understand, who else would? He needs me."

Callum looked at me for a long while, his eyes unreadable as he bore them upon me. Finally, he narrowed his eyes and sighed, once again taking me into his arms and kissing me on my forehead. "Alright. When would you like to see him?"

"Tomorrow. Charlie suggested that I take an extra day off to be sure. It's the earliest I've got."

"Tomorrow, huh? Would you like me to come with you?" he suddenly asked. This took me by surprise.

"It's fine," I assured him, "I should be alright. Besides, you have school to attend." Not to mention Jacob already carried an enmity toward Callum, and I don't want to worsen his current condition.

"Had you planned to go early in the morning?"

"Probably not too early, but not too late, either. If things are alright with him, I'm thinking I should catch some rest for myself."

"Mm, alright then. Be careful on your way, and don't make your father worry more than he already seems to be," he bade.

But right then, he sounded more worried than anybody, even me.

My engine made a staccato heave as it halted on the sidewalk in front of Jacob's house. I snatched the small, thrifty plastic bag which contained Jacob's get-better card. I'd past by the local market and U-turned my way back in a belated thought to offer him with a gift of any kind – that which I satisfied with my crafty imagination to give him a card. So I rarely do this, and I wasn't quite sure what to do. I was used to having been the one lying in bed with a broken this or broken that, and so I tried to think of what I could have wanted from someone during that time. When I came up with no satisfying conclusion, I'd settled for food – FlipSides Pretzel Crackers, which I understand were his favorite, and chocolate-covered macadamia nuts, which were my favorite. I was taught by my mother that food was always a safe way to go with men; the way to man's heart is through his stomach, they say, but I was more hoping that it would reach through Jacob's arcane illness.

I shut the door to my truck and then jumped in dire revelation when I found Billy Black behind the door, unmoving in his wheelchair as he reviewed me with lurid eyes. I clutched my chest and breathed in relief – or as near to relief as his sinister presence would provide me at that moment.

"Isabella Swan, what are you doing here?" he questioned wryly.

"I wanted to come visit Jacob. I heard he's—"

"He isn't feeling too well right now. I'm afraid I'd have to ask you to leave," he urged dryly but in lucid finality.

"I understand that," I claimed doggedly, "But I would only like a second with him, at least. I bought—"

"He isn't well. He needs time, Bella, and I'm sure he'd appreciate that from you," he reasoned.

"No, I'm sure he'd like to see me—"

"Bella," was all he said as he closed the conversation. When I didn't say any more, he turned to leave. Just like that.

My sudden forlorn seemed to have rankled the skies, for liquid dusts of rain came pouring at that moment. I remained fixated on where I stood, which was no more than a step closer to his house – to Jacob – since I got here. It wasn't fair that I've been restricted to see him at all, but that only intensified my growing suspicion over Jacob's predicament. Billy's callous attitude had only facilitated to impugn upon their guff explanation over Jacob's circumstance. I had no doubt that Jacob would wanted to see me, no matter what condition he was in. His unfailing smile when he sees me was an irrefutable proof to that.

But something else was going on – something ghastly.

Just as I turned to leave and threw a last glance toward Jacob's house, something – or more likely, someone – flickered through the blinds of the window, just in time for my curious eyes not to reach him.

And I decided right at that moment that I will find out what that ghastly thing is, whatever in the hell it may be.

So I figured I have a ton of explaining to do, so if you're not into rambling, you might wanna skip through this note. As I have informed all of you before, I was in the process of moving and though that came and past quickly enough, my internet became a problem. The phone company - Verizon - that supported us met with technical difficulties in setting up our connection, and so that delayed me for quite some time. And then, to be honest, it took me a few days to get back from my makeshift writer's block and regain my posture for writing again. Because I was in such a streak when I first started out, I feel absolutely horrible that Chapter 10 came much later than I'd originally planned and so for that, readers, I'm so sorry. You guys really keep me going and are my greatest encouragements, no strings attached.

And so today I went to the mall and of all the stores I could have gone to (I was at the Fashion Island overlooking Laguna Beach, no less) I went to Barnes and Noble. Haha, don't get me wrong, I bathed in the luxury of the small cash I'd saved from working as well, but Barnes and Noble was tantilizing, seeing as there were so many reminders of what's coming on SATURDAY. I'm sure you all know what that is, and are as excited as I am. Sooo... I'm going to do my very best in order to provide you guys with two or three chapters before then, so that you guys won't (as easily) forget about my measly little story. lol Tomorrow, I'm going to a theme park in the morning, BUT I will be staying up all night tonight and tomorrow to give you guys Chapter 11 as soon as possible.

I love you guys! And thank you so much for all of your support and for those who have patiently stayed tuned. I hope this chapter was to your liking. Ex's & Oh's - handwritten