Hey guys! I'm super excited, because I have my awesome Beta again! Frannie cleaned the hell out of this chapter, thanks hun! Glad to have you back!(Any mistakes are due to mine own constant tampering!)

And thank-you to everyone who has left a review! Each one of them puts a smile on my face, and I LOVE hearing your theories! Some people have gotten pretty darn close, picking up on all the hints I'm leaving, and I love hearing your opinions!

I'm keeping this short today, on to the chapter! And I don't own Twilight, at all.

. . . Edward . . .

It took everything in me not to text Bella before Wednesday. If I wasn't worried about coming on too strong, I might have caved. The rest of Monday after she left and the entirety of Tuesday crawled by at an agonizingly slow pace. Yet somehow I managed to wait until lunch before finally letting myself text her.

The weather wasn't great, but I figured she might have gone out to the meadow when she didn't answer right away. I knew there wasn't any reception there.

When school let out, and there still hadn't been any word from her, I grew uneasy. I couldn't really call her, but I sent another message, still making my way over. There was no way she'd be out in the meadow now, it was pouring.

She didn't answer the door, though, but through the window, I could see that her car was in the garage so I knew she was home.

But she didn't even come to the door. I got that she had anxiety issues, but if she changed her mind, a fucking courtesy text would have been nice. This fucking radio silence was just immature. I put out a lot of effort to make her comfortable, but if she wasn't even going to try then what was the point?

So, I said fuck it and left feeling beyond pissed.

And I told myself that when I did go out to the meadow to burn when I got in two minutes later, it was for that purposely only. I felt pathetic when she still wasn't there, though.

. . . . .

Two days and she hadn't even texted to apologize, let alone reply to the message I'd sent Wednesday night asking what the hell her deal was. I was so pissed off that I could barely think straight. So Friday night I went out with the remainder of the twenty-sixer of Smirnoff I had stashed away, a two-liter bottle of Coke, and a few joints. I biked down to the beach, where Mike, Ben, Quill, and Embry were, along with Leah and Rose. Leah moved around to drop down next to me with a big smile, and though I really didn't want to talk to anyone, I still smoked her on a joint. I wasn't sharing my vodka, though. After doing a few shots, and when I had enough room in my pop bottle, I emptied the liquor into it.

Every time I handed Leah that joint and our fingers touched I got more and more pissed. It was normal. She didn't have any hesitation. It was too much of a contrast to…

I tried to shake off the irritation, but couldn't.

I couldn't share a joint with Bella like this, she'd likely knock herself out with a panic attack or some shit.

Jessica, Lauren, and Angela came by with Eric later, and Jake was the last one to join us, not getting there until almost eleven.

"What took you so long?" Embry asked, and he dropped down next to him, swiping one of his beers.

"I had to wait until my dad fell asleep, he fucking grounded me," he mumbled in irritation. I laughed, feeling better seeing someone who was in a shittier mood than me. Everyone else laughed too.

"What did you do?" Leah asked, still eye-fucking my bottle of pop. Wasn't happening, though.

"That little fucking freak that lives with the Chief, that's what happened. She's hot, but that girl has fucking issues, man. I think she's milking it or whatever, but the Chief fucking buys it."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I practically growled, instantly sitting up rod straight.

"I went over to watch the game with my dad on Tuesday, and it was the first time we'd been over since she moved in with him. It was almost as if he was just hiding her away or something. Anyways, I thought I'd ask her out to dinner or something, just being fucking friendly, you know? I put my arm around her, and she just freaked out; she fucking fainted or whatever, and well…she smoked her head on the oven and had to go to the hospital. But they both freaked out on me like it was my fault! I barely touched her, it was ridiculous."

I gaped at him, having trouble believing his words, but then they clicked.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I practically shouted, and everyone went dead silent, staring at me. "You fucking touched her?"

"Dude, what-"

"You don't know a fucking thing about her, don't you dare talk fucking shit about her like that! You fucking idiot." I was too drunk to beat the shit out of him but sober enough to know I was too drunk to take him. And I was heavily outnumbered, but I wanted to smash his fucking jaw. "If I ever hear you even fucking breathing in her direction again, I'll make sure you regret it," I swore, and stormed off before I could lunge over the fire at him.

I got on my bike and got the hell out of there, knowing that I may have lost my cool a bit. I wasn't sure where I was going, and I stopped at the meadow, coming to a fork in the road.

I wouldn't blame Bella for wanting nothing to do with me, but I had to apologize to her, and as soon as possible.

But I was also drunk, and would likely do more harm than good if I went to her now.

So, I sat out in the blackness of the meadow and finished off my pop as I wrote, re-wrote, and then wrote again, another hundred times, a text message. When I got home and had reception, I read it one last time before sending it.

Bella, I'm so sorry. I assumed the worst and flipped out on you. I was wrong. I just found out from Jake tonight, and came close to attacking him for it. I wanted to come see you, but I'm drunk and didn't think it would be cool to show up in the middle of the night while smashed. I'm so sorry. I'm coming by tomorrow, and if you don't want to answer I'll understand, but I really hope you do.

. . . . .

I can't believe I bought her flowers.

Not even from the grocery store, I went to a fucking flower store. I tried to convince myself it was because she hurt herself and it was normal to buy flowers for someone who was hurt; not because I was quickly becoming addicted to her.

The Chief's cruiser was in the driveway when I parked, and my nerves increased ten-fold. I forced myself up to the door, though, and when I knocked, it was the Chief who answered. He frowned but didn't look murderous, almost as if he'd been expecting me. "Edward," he said, his mustache twitching as he pursed his lips. "I actually thought I'd see you a little sooner if I'm being honest."

"I just heard last night that Bella hurt herself?" I asked, trying not to wince.

His face hardened.

"She didn't hurt herself, that punk-ass, handsy brat of Billy's crossed the line."

"Is she okay? What happened?" I asked, my voice shaking in both anger and worry.

"She has a bad concussion, and had to get stitches on her head." He sighed. "I'm sorry kid, but this is not the best time for visitors. She's not doing too well right now, but I can let her know you came by. She'll be happy to hear it."

"No, Chief…please. I really fucked up. We were supposed to hang out on Wednesday, and I thought she just stood me up and…I really messed up, and I need to fix it."

He glared at me, and my life flashed before my eyes.

"If she didn't seem to like you so God damn much I'd make you fucking disappear, boy," he said in a sharp voice.

"I wouldn't blame you," I said quietly.

He sighed irritably. "I have to wake her up again in a bit, you can come in and wait," he said begrudgingly. I thanked him profusely, and uneasily entered his house.

"You…said she's not doing very well?" I asked warily, and his anger seemed to fade into pain.

"No…I fucking told that kid to go nowhere near her, but he didn't listen. She hit her head, and got hurt, and that was bad enough, but having to go to the hospital was even worse than the fall. And she was doing so fucking well…"

Sudden understanding hit me a minute after he spoke, and my stomach rolled.

How do you give someone stitches without touching them?

You can't.

Shit, there's no way I could imagine Bella sitting through someone giving her stitches. They would have likely had to sedate her or something.

Fuck.

The memory of my father's face on Tuesday night when he'd gotten home from work, pale and almost haunted-looking, came to my mind. I wondered if he had been the one working on her.

"Fuck, I shouldn't be telling you this kid, please don't-"

"Telling me what?" I asked, giving him a meaningful look. Because I obviously wouldn't say shit. I appreciated, and probably needed a bit of his help with her. I knew I was no expert, even with the hours I'd spent on Google reading about anxiety. I didn't even know what had happened to her.

"Thanks."

"So, have you guys figured out she's afraid of hands?"

"What?" He asked in surprise. He had helped me, I wanted to do anything I could to help him too.

"She's more afraid of people's hands than actual people. If I have my hands in my pockets, or if I'm driving, I can be almost touching her, and she's practically comfortable with it."

His eyes were wide as he took in my words, and I knew by his surprise that he hadn't known, but something clicked in his eyes.

"How'd you figure that out?"

"I just noticed it after a while on Saturday. I started to see a pattern."

"Thank you for telling me this, you have no idea how much that may help."

"Good," I said happily, and the Chief no longer looked like he wanted to start cleaning his gun once more.

"Can you just wait here for a bit while I wake her? She doesn't care for surprises."

"Yeah, sure," I said with a smile.

I waited inside his living room shifting from foot to foot until he came back out about five minutes later. "She's just in the washroom, you can go sit in her room if you want," he said, dropping into one of his recliners. "But watch your fucking step boy, I've got my eye on you."

Shit.

That was not good, but I kind of deserved it. I nodded and made my way to her bedroom. I sat down in her computer chair and jumped when she came out of another door. It appeared as though she had her own washroom. Lucky. Well, I guess I had my own washroom too, but it wasn't attached to my room.

Her eyes looked so sorry when she walked out. She was wearing a baggy t-shirt that almost completely hid the tiny pair of shorts she was wearing. She had her hair in a braid, and though her face was pale and she had dark circles under her eyes, she still looked fucking gorgeous.

I could have kicked myself for the first words that came out of my mouth.

"Are you wearing make-up?"

She looked at me in both surprise and confusion, and my heart leaped into my throat when she swayed dizzily where she stood. She grabbed her notebook off her desk and managed to get back into her bed without falling. I kept myself firmly seated to avoid startling her. She wrote something down, blinking hard a few times at her paper, before holding it out to me to read. I rolled across the floor in her chair so I was next to her bed.

No, why would you ask something like that?

"So you're just naturally this gorgeous?" I asked giving her a teasing smile to hide how completely fucking serious I was. She just rolled her eyes. It was taking her a really long time to write, and it was obvious how hard it was for her to concentrate. Her writing was pretty messy today too, slightly crooked compared to her usually straight script.

Thanks, you're sweet, but I'm quite aware that I look like a walker right now. I'm so sorry I didn't text you, they just let me leave last night, and I can barely see straight. I should have asked Charlie to call you. I'm really sorry.

"No, fuck. Bella, that wasn't your fault," I said quickly. "I-" Sudden realization hit me as her words sank in, but they didn't end up helping. "So, you haven't read any of the texts I sent you?"

Shit, sorry, no. I haven't checked my phone yet; the screen is too hard to read.

I sighed and anxiously rubbed my sweaty palms against my jeans before ripping off the Band-Aid. "Bella, I…I'm sorry. When you didn't answer or come to the door on Wednesday, I assumed the worst and thought you were just like…Trying to blow me off. I'm so, so sorry, I feel like such an asshole, and I wish I'd never sent it, but…the texts I sent you weren't very nice. I get it if you don't want to hang out anymore, but I needed to apologize for it still. I'm really sorry."

She watched me with wide eyes, and her face fell before they started to water, and she looked down at her lap.

I didn't know what else to do, but I couldn't leave. I wouldn't. Not until she told me to. So I just sat there silently, waiting for her to do something.

A few minutes later, she looked over at her cell phone, where it was blinking away on her nightstand. With a sigh, she reached over and picked it up, and I tensed as she stared at it in her hand for a moment. I was so surprised when she tossed it to me that I almost didn't catch it. I looked at her in confusion as she wrote something in her book.

You didn't mean it?

I shook my head, unable to find my voice. I'd give anything to take them back; I didn't want to lose her.

I couldn't.

You can delete them.

I stared at her in shock.

"What, are you serious?"

You said you wished you could take them back. If you didn't mean them, then I don't want to know what they say.

"You…you'd really be okay with that?" I honestly couldn't imagine doing that, I'd have to know.

I'm hurt that you could think I would do that to you. I know I have some issues opening up, and that I haven't told you everything about me, but there's shit I'm just not ready to talk to you about. I'm trying, though, and I would never just cut you out like that. I like hanging out with you, and if a message you didn't mean and regret is going to change that, then I don't want to read it. Just please don't do it again.

My eyes fucking watered in relief, shame, and regret.

"I won't, I promise," I swore to her, and one tear escaped her eye as she sadly nodded to the phone and looked back down at her hands in her lap.

I felt bad about taking the easy route like this, but if I had the opportunity to fix a mistake that had been eating me alive and made me risk losing or hurting her, I had to take it. I deleted all my still-unread messages on her phone, before sitting it back down on her nightstand and plugging it back in for her.

"Thank you, Bella, and I'm so sorry."

She gave me a small smile.

"How are you feeling?"

She grimaced.

"I'll take that as horrible," I said, gently teasing, and managed to get a reluctant smile out of her. "I just found out last night from Jake, I almost fucking killed him. I would have come over then, but I was kind of drunk and thought I might have just made things worse." Another smile, but she looked exhausted. "Hey, I'm going to let you get some rest, and no, don't you dare fucking apologize," I warned before she could pick her pencil back up. "I want to know what happened but it looks really hard for you to write and I don't want you to do it anymore. I want you to tell me the next time I see you, though, okay?" She didn't reply, and just watched me warily. I smirked. "I'll get it out of you," I said confidently because I could tell she didn't like keeping things from me. "Would it be okay if I dropped by after school on Monday to see how you are?"

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before giving me a hesitant nod, and my heart flew.

It was then that I remembered that I was still holding her fucking flowers like an idiot. I'd gotten a vase for them already because I couldn't picture the Chief having any in his house. "Oh, um, yeah. These are for you," I said lamely, sitting them on her nightstand. She bit her lip again, trying to restrain a smile as she wrote.

Are these 'I'm sorry' flowers or 'get well' flowers?

Fuck, she really didn't beat around the bush.

"I'm honestly not even sure anymore. Can they just be 'I wanted to give you flowers' flowers?"

She smirked, nodding, and I grinned back.

"I'll come by on my way home Monday, and the only reason I'm not texting you is because you can't read them," I said, needing to make sure she wouldn't think I was trying to blow her off.

Waiting the day and a half to text her last Monday and Tuesday just felt ridiculous right now but I knew I would drive myself crazy waiting for a reply that would be hard for her to make. And she would, after this, no matter how hard it was for her, I was fairly certain of that.

She nodded, looking a little relieved, which settled me.

Thank you very much for the flowers, they're very pretty. And for stopping by too.

I shook my head. "Thank you. Get some rest, okay?" She nodded, and then smiled when I set another chocolate kiss on her nightstand. She mouthed a goodbye, and I gave her a tiny wave before closing her door behind me as I left.

The Chief took one look at me and sighed.

"You're fucking lucky, kid."

"I know. Looks like I'll be seeing you around Chief. Bye!"

He rolled his eyes at me, and I let myself out. I made my way home with a giant smile and got to work on my homework right away so I wouldn't have as much to worry about Monday night.

AN: Yeah... Edward has a bit of a temper, but what teenage boys don't? (Or teenagers in general, sorry kids. Wait, what are you doing here? I told you in chapter one that this story wasn't for kids! You're not supposed to be here!) He does try to make up for it, though.

Do you think Bella let him off too easily?

Take care till next time, and please hit that review button!