STEPHENIE MEYER OWNS IT ALL.

Hello again, my friends. As always, thanks for the reviews. They keep my mind a-churnin'.

As you can see, my writer's block is gone and I'm getting these out as fast as I can.

At the moment I'm sitting at my kitchen table, eating ice cream, and staring at my laptop trying to think of a way to get the point across in these next couple chapters without making Jazz look like a complete douche. For lack of any better excuse, let me just say this: HE'S NOT A COMPLETE DOUCHE!

Ok. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well as the next few that will be up pretty much right after the other.

JPOV-

I found myself strangely preoccupied the next day at work. We were slow. Hell, we were always slow. There wasn't much of a vinyl record need in and around Forks. It gave me way too much time to think about things I was better off not thinking about. Namely Bella.

I already knew what I had to do. What I needed to do. It shouldn't have been as difficult as it was. Bella deserved to be happy. Could I make her happy? No, that was highly doubtful. I couldn't make any girl happy. I didn't stick around long enough for that. Bella had seemed to be capable of breaking through some of my hang ups, but they were still there. My walls were still strong. And sooner or later, I'd panic. I bolt outta her life so fast you'd think my feet were on fire, as my mama likes to put it. And wouldn't that hurt her even more in the end?

"Hey, Whitlock."

James. I'd forgotten all about the prick. For the time being, I'd put Bella to the back of my mind and focus on setting this sonofabitch straight.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do, dickhead," I said.

"Yeah, I know, man," he said. But he didn't start explaining right away. He just stood there looking at me without ever really looking me in the eye. I waited but he still didn't talk.

"Well? What the fuck, James. You make this huge stink about how there's some sort of explanation that somehow justifies being a complete asshole to Alice, which I can tell you right now that nothing you say is gonna make me wanna punch you any less, and then you just stand there looking like a fat kid who got caught eating all the fuckin' cookies!"

"Ok, so you're mad."

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' mad, man! I'm fuckin' livid, is what I am! Jesus Christ, Scranton, I knew you were an idiot but I also thought you were a decent enough guy."

"I am!"

"Well, then?" I said. "What the hell did she do to you? The girl doesn't have a single enemy on this planet."

"I like her, alright? Fuck, I thought it'd be more obvious by now," he admitted.

"Oh, you like her, do you?"

"Yeah."

"You like her?"

"Yes, asshole, I really fuckin' like her!"

"Then why the fuck are doing shit like pushing her down and calling her a fucking dyke!"

"I donno," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"I said I don't know! Fuck!"

"You don't know? How is any of this supposed to make sense to me, man?"

"Look, it doesn't make sense to me either, Jasper. The girl scares the living shit outta me," he said. I had to laugh despite my frustration.

"Aly? My little Alice scares you?" I asked.

"Yeah, bro. She's intimidating. I know it sounds corny as shit, but when I walked into class that first day she took my fucking breath away."

"Yeah, that does sound pretty pathetic," I said, laughing at him some more.

"Thanks."

"But that still doesn't explain why you're being a dick," I reminded him.

"I don't know, I mean, it's not like I enjoy it. I wanna be nice to her. But I don't know how to talk to her. Plus, you know, I figured if I acted like I hated her sooner or later I actually would," he explained.

"Why would you want to hate her? She's the sweetest girl ever."

"Because I'm not stupid, alright? She isn't gonna like me. For starters I'm a guy. And if Jessica Stanley knows what she's talking about, Alice plays for the other team. Fuck my life, right? Plus, I'm not her type even if she does like guys. She's smart. She's different. She has her fuckin' pictures hanging in Starbucks for Christ's sake! She'd be better off dating some college guy who writes poetry and sips espresso all goddamn day."

"Ok, let me set you straight on a few things. First off, your whole plan to psychosomatically convince yourself to hate her is out the window. You're too hooked already. Secondly, yeah she dates girls sometimes. But I know her. She's straight. She just does it because she's young and naïve and that's what all the other artsy chicks are doing these days. And, FYI Romeo. She digs you. Even despite your douche bag ways, she likes you. Personally, I don't get it."

"What do you mean, she likes me?" he asked.

"I mean she likes you. You walk by and she loses her train of thought. The other day when you knocked her on her ass? She wasn't angry. She was sad because she thinks you hate her. Trust me. She's yours. All you gotta do is ask her. And be nice!"

"Fuck, man. I don't think I can," he said. I was starting to think there was no hope for this kid.

"You don't know girls at all do you?" I asked.

"No, girls I know. I've had plenty of chicks. But Alice—all the girls you hang out with for that matter—are different. They're mysterious as fuck. I swear, it's like you guys found the only real beauties in the whole state and claimed them for your own."

"Can't argue with you on that one. My girls are the best."

"It's like they stepped out of a fuckin' Harlequin Romance novel," he said. That just about put me in stitches.

"What the fuck? You read Harlequins?" I asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, man, my mom was sick one summer. There wasn't much I could do for her except read her the books she liked," he explained, wiping the situation of all humor. We were quiet for a few minutes. I was starting to think there was a lot more to James Scranton than I'd assumed.

"So what are you gonna do?" I asked.

"I was hoping you could help me with that."

"I can't do the footwork for you. I'm sorry, but you're just gonna have to suck it up, find your balls, and talk to her. It won't take much. A simple 'Hello' would probably have her eating out of the palm of your hand at this point."

He nodded, and then our first customer of the day came in, putting our little conversation on hold. Fifteen minutes later I was telling the little old man to have a nice day and to enjoy the Frank Sinatra records he'd purchased.

"So what's going on with you and the brunette?" James asked once the old man was out the door.

"What are you talking about?" I hedged.

"Oh, c'mon, Whitlock. I know you took her to the dance last night," he said.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"No, you're right. It doesn't. Not unless you add to the equation the fact that you look at her like Samson looked at Delilah right before she chopped all his hair off. Or the fact that she looks at you the same way. Or the fact that even I can feel the tension between you guys, and I'm not even in your little incestuous group."

"Incestuous?"

"Ok, that was harsh. Tight-nit would've been a better way to put it, I'll admit."

"Yeah," I said. I ran a hand through my hair. "Well, yeah, the girl kinda has me losing my mind at the moment. I guess we're in the same boat, huh?"

"What are you gonna do?" he asked again.

"Absolutely nothing," I answered.

"Ok, elaborate." He jumped up onto the counter, ready to listen. I was shocked to find I actually liked James. He was a cool guy. I hoped he'd find a way to talk to Alice. I wouldn't mind at all if they were together, which was a lot for me to admit.

"Look, if you knew me better you'd know that I am not the dating type of guy. I run from commitment. Where Edward is just a slut, a trait he's proud of, I on the other hand have sex with girls and then don't talk to them afterwards because I'm fucked up. Royally. And Bella doesn't deserve that."

"Well, maybe it'd be different with her. I mean, you obviously care enough about her that you haven't tried to get in her pants yet. Maybe she's your anti-phobia," he said.

"My anti-phobia?"

"Everybody's got one, bro." I shook my head.

"I can't risk that. I figure if I cut myself off now I eliminate the chance of breaking her heart later by running out on her when she's really attached. Right now I'm really only hurting myself by not being with her."

"Or maybe she's just as into this as you are. Maybe she'd rather have a small time of happiness with you than no time at all. Maybe it's partially her decision too. Maybe it's not fair for you to yank the rug out from under her before she even has time to sort out her feelings."

He was getting pretty passionate about all this. I stared at him for several silent moments to make sure he was finished with his tangent.

"Or maybe you've read one too many Harlequins," I said. He chuckled.

"Yeah, maybe." And then, "Your mind's set, though, isn't it?"

"Unfortunately, it's been set since the beginning, my friend."

"This won't last," he decided.

"Oh, yeah?" I said. "How do you figure?"

"It's gonna kill you. Not talking to her. Seeing her interact with other guys. Your mind telling you she's not yours when you're heart's telling you she should be. It'll get to you. And then, if it's not already too late, you'll throw logic to the fuckin' sharks."

"Shit, man," I mused. "You're fuckin' deep."

A/N-

See, not much going on in this chapter. A lot of dialogue. But it's fun. I like James. He says it how it is. Hope you like it. Next one will be up hella soon. Peace out, my friends.

PS: Kudos to one of my very best friends, Jeni Nunez, for being my ego-booster, for dealing with my self-conscious writer hang-ups, and for being my biggest fan. I love you Johnny Damien Bradley! You are and will always be the HoneyNut to my Cheerios!

Oh yeah, and I'm expecting lots of reviews :O