A/N: I don't own Twilight, just can't let go….
I woke and went to school, focused on everything around me in an effort not to have to think too much about the night before. I made it through my morning classes without incident, obsessively focusing on what each teacher had to say and taking notes.
At lunch, Angela was discreet, asking questions without really asking what she was dying to. We talked about going to Port Angeles shopping for paint, Mike interjected with questions then about what we were painting and Ben offered to help as well. In no time, it looked like we were going to have a painting/redecorating party at my house. Angela offered to drive, so we left my truck at Angela's which fit nicely into the cover story from last night. The guys agreed that we should shop without them, and tomorrow, we could get started on our project right after school. Of course this would mean dinner for everyone as well. I was actually beginning to look forward to it. I hadn't cooked for anyone by Charlie and Jake in ages.
There were stares and whispers, of course. But something inside of me had changed. I found myself almost amused by the curiosity. Almost. I felt no drive to avoid the stares nor did I try to hide myself. Neither did I feel particularly obligated to answer questions from my classmates. I knew that Angela would have more questions later, I also new that her concern was just that. Concern, not curiosity. Strange enough, I suddenly didn't care one little bit about the curiosity of others. I was content to let them draw their own conclusions. I figured there was no way they could come up with the actual sequence of events, and any story they did come up with was bound to be far more entertaining than any fabrication of my own. My imagination had been used up dealing with reality. When you live in the myth, making up things seems like overkill. I was oddly calm, content even.
And this was the new attitude that carried me through the rest of my day… I didn't blush or cower, I didn't avert my gaze, or hide behind my hair. I simply walked, head held high from class to class until, at long last, the school day was over.
The trip to Port Angeles was relatively uneventful. Angela had, naturally, heard all about the mysterious fire at the Cullens'. She asked her questions in such a way as to let me know I didn't owe her an explanation, other than to reassure her that her trust in covering for me was not misplaced.
I assured her that nothing shady had happened, just that Jake had also heard about the fire. I told Angela that Charlie was out most of the night because of the fire. I also implied that Jacob was worried about me being home alone with an arsonist on the prowl. She made the connection by herself that starting a fire at the Cullens' home could be seen as a threat to me. Since I'm the only person in Forks with any connection to them at all. She made the assumption that this was Jacob's concern, I didn't correct her. I also didn't share the fact that I had seen the fire, and had, in fact, started the fire. I told her that I had stayed with Sue Clearwater, and that, though she and my dad were close, she wouldn't expose our little lie. Sue's only concern was that I was safe and that none of this caused Charlie any more stress than it was already.
We stopped for dinner in Port Angeles, thankfully not at the same restaurant we had planned to go to all those months ago when she and Jessica were shopping for dresses. Angela, being caring and sensitive, seemed to know instinctively that some memories are better left undisturbed. Instead, we got hot dogs from a street vendor by the waterfront and strolled along the pier enjoying our "portable" dinner. It was a perfect evening. The sky, streaked with wispy clouds, reflected the sunset over the water in brilliant pinks, oranges and reds. As the color changed to lavender, we headed back home.
Charlie was waiting for us when we got back. In very un-Charlie-like behavior, he insisted on seeing my purchases. He nodded approvingly at my choice of a "Bed in a Bag" ensemble from Target. It was a light blue and brown block print comforter out of some silky material, I'm sure wasn't actually silk, not at this price. Also, it was machine washable, I'm pretty sure silk would require dry cleaning. We'd also found coordinating throw pillows, and a valance for the window. Our stop at the hardware store had yielded new cellular shades that worked from the top down or the bottom up. They were almost the same soft blue as the comforter on the inside, but from the outside, were a neutral white. We'd bought set of oiled bronze coat hooks for the wall, and a matching lock for the window. I was slightly stunned when Charlie didn't even raise an eyebrow at the window lock package. I'd been sure he would want some sort of explanation. I'd been prepared to offer some platitude about having left Phoenix, but Phoenix hadn't left me. All completely unnecessary it seemed. The final piece of our plan was the paint. A fresh blue, a shade deeper than the comforter and a rich chocolate brown for one wall.
Charlie looked relieved when Angela shared the news that Mike and Ben would be over tomorrow after school to help paint and install the blinds and hardware. I mentioned that I had planned to cook and invite everyone to stay for dinner. Charlie's face lit up with this news. I attributed it to his relief that I was finally spending time with my friends.
I should have known better, of course. I should have also noticed that Charlie didn't mention the fire once during the entire conversation. Not even when he apologized for not being able to help with the painting, since he was fairly sure he'd be working late tomorrow.
Of course, Charlie may have been suspicious about my lack of curiosity too. I didn't mention the fire or the rumors, didn't ask why he had to work late.
Volumes were left unspoken between us. Neither wanting to broach the subject. I suspected that Charlie still assumed certain topics were off limits. For the most part that was true. I still didn't relish the idea of talking about the Cullens, but I doubt it would cause a full on panic attack either. After all, I hadn't awakened screaming in quite a while.
After Angela helped me to my room with our loot and headed home, I hit the shower, spent a few minutes on homework and turned in for the night. For the first time since before my disastrous eighteenth birthday, I was looking forward to tomorrow.
A/N: Thanks for reading. I'm sorry for taking so long between updates. I'd like to say I have a good excuse, but really, I've been spending too much time reading and not enough time writing! Discipline has never been my strong suit. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. I plan to update rather quickly. The next chapters are in my head, I just need to get them out! Review if you like, or send me a pm with suggestions! Thanks!