For SpannyMare, who's been reviewing since the beginning - I'm really sorry. This is also for a family member of mine, who had a son and a daughter, who had a heart attack, and is no longer with us. Harry Clearwater's story means so much more to me now.
Song for this chapter: Without You, RENT (OMS)
10. Old Friends, Without You
I was grounded until my wedding.
I knew I was under too much stress, because whenever I thought that statement to myself, I began to laugh hysterically.
Charlie finally admitted to believing that nothing happened, as we said over and over during that hour long conversation, along with how I was no longer the seventeen-year-old girl that moved in with him, as he deep-down still believed. There were tears, some shouting, and gentle whispering. But the entire thing ended with me throwing myself into Charlie's arms, telling him how much I love him.
I slept alone that night.
Alice came over the next day, telling me that she thought it would be best if Edward didn't stay over until the wedding.
"I know it will be hard, Bella," she'd said to me, one icy arm over my shoulders. "But, if you don't mind me saying, you're leaving Charlie soon. And I think, well, I think it's the least you can do for him."
I'd listened to her. I agreed - I owed my father so much. So many times I'd disappeared from him, no note, no calls, so many times I'd put a deep crack in his heart, already broken so many years ago by my mother. And every time I'd come back, almost always injured, a burden dropped on his doorstep. And every time he took me in, always loving me and wanting me to be happy. I owed Charlie - I owed my Daddy - so much more than I could ever give him. So Edward stayed at his house, and I curled up into a tense little ball and tried to sleep, my lullaby drifting from my CD player.
Three days had passed. Three nights. The sun was shining powerfully, making the deep, protective green of home glow to a bright, welcoming Emerald City. The entire Cullen family had gone hunting, and Charlie gone at dawn, fishing pole in hand. I was alone in the house, drowning in sunlight.
Alice had convinced me that I had nothing to worry about, with either the pack or the Volturi. They had it all covered, she insisted. The Volturi they could handle, she'd pressed, and they'd try as hard as they could not to hurt the wolves. I worried anyway - with the Volturi, I worried for my family; with the pack, I was beginning to worry more for the bunch of rowdy teenagers planning war against a group of vampires. I though of Leah and Seth, who already lost their father too early - could they go on without each other? I thought of Sam, carrying me back to my house from the woods, imagined the look in Emily's eyes if he were hurt. I thought of Quil and Embry, so kind and easy to be with, and tried not to linger on them. I thought of Jared, I thought of Paul. I thought of Collin and Brady, both much to young to fight for their lives, werewolves or not.
And I thought of Jacob.
I thought of his face that day with Mike and Jessica at the beach, the easy smile, the glint in his eye as he asked "Do you like scary stories?". I thought of the way he used to run out and greet me when I'd drive up to his house. I thought of when I laughed, really laughed, with him, for the first time in months. I thought of the rush I'd get as we rode our motorcycles along the dirt roads of La Push. I thought of sitting against the driftwood tree with him as the sun make the sea sparkle, the rocks shine like rainbows. I thought of him holding me in my sleeping bag, his overheated skin keeping me warm. I thought of the way he held me to his side as his shattered bones quickly healed, the look on his face when I walked away. I thought of Jacob Black.
My best friend.
I knew he wouldn't want to see me; not while he was planning to try and massacre my second family. Not when I'd chosen Edward over him in a final, tangible way. Not when I'd turned my back on our friendship, in his eyes.
I knew it wasn't smart. I knew I could get hurt, I knew Edward would be furious. And I was grounded, too - if Charlie came home early to an empty house, he might not be so understanding this time.
I knew it could make things worse. A lot worse. I could make a lot of people mad, a lot of very dangerous people. I could brake one heart, two, and even my own. I knew that.
But I knew I needed to.
Without sparing a moment to write a note or retrieve my jacket from my bedroom, I grabbed my keys, got into my truck, and drove to La Push.
