Sorry for this being posted a day late—I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 20

The rest of the week after I was unceremoniously returned to my bedroom full-time passed slowly as we fell back into our former routine. Jacob let me out for a few bathroom breaks each day and brought in a tray of food in the evenings; in the mornings he tossed me a granola bar and a water bottle for the day, sometimes a piece of fruit which I usually saved for lunch. Billy never bothered with feeding me lunch even though he was home most of the time.

I mean, how hard was it to make an extra pb&j sandwich and toss it to me?

Ridiculous.

After Jacob came home from school the first day I was back in my room, he installed another deadbolt that locked from the outside.

Perfect.

And, yes, I had considered trying to escape from my room during the day while Jacob was gone, but Billy whispered some pretty dire threats against the Cullens through the crack beside my door that made me tremble with fear. So I stayed put, afraid of what his tribal friends would do to Carlisle and even little Alice.

It wasn't pretty...

Part of me was furious with Billy for threatening Alice; she had done nothing except be a friend to me. Since when was that a crime? And despite his strong reaction to Billy on the telephone in the ER, Carlisle struck me as a nonviolent person. But part of me was also frightened of Billy carrying out his threats, enough so that I didn't dare try to escape.

But I was used to this kind of treatment from Billy and Jacob, and in a way, I felt a little better being locked in my room. After all, I had destroyed this family: I had killed Sarah Black, the woman who loved me as her own and mothered her other three kids so lovingly; I had put Billy into a wheelchair as his grief over Sarah's death had spiraled his diabetes into a deadly cycle that necessitated drastic measures a year later, resulting in the amputation of his feet. And heartbroken over their mother's death and their father's disability, Rachel and Rebecca hated me so much that they left La Push, making no secret whom they blamed for the disintegration of their once close-knit family.

And while Jacob had been there for me over the years, he now frightened me with his cruelty one moment and shocked me with his surprising kindness the next. That familiar look in his eye...that gentle shine...bound me to him as I remembered his kindness toward me. Until a year or so ago.

What happened a year ago was so strange. I had been locked in my room as usual, and I could hear the then unfamiliar sounds of voices raised in anger as Jacob argued with his dad about going out with his friends late on a Friday night. Lately Jacob had been on such a sudden and incredible growth spurt; I swear that he had grown six inches in just three or four months. His physique completely changed from a slim, lanky teen to the powerful build of a grown man. If I didn't know Jacob better, I would have thought that he was doing steroids or something.

And Jacob seemed as clueless about his abnormal growth as I was...until that night.

When their voices raised in anger during the first of many arguments to come, I had unabashedly listened at my door, trying to make out individual words so I could understand the source of their argument. Jacob had always been so easygoing; he went along with everyone as much as he could with only rare arguments with Billy, usually over his treatment of me. Jacob was a peacemaker.

Until now.

I could hear Jacob with no problem as his yells of protest echoed throughout the small house, mixed liberally with four-letter words, but Billy's lower, rumbling voice was almost impossible to distinguish. All I could make out was that whatever Billy had said had angered Jake beyond compare.

Then the front door slammed hard...so hard that I felt my bedroom wall shake. Billy had thrown the door open after Jacob had slammed it, and I heard Jacob yelling at his father that he was old enough to do as he pleased and that Billy couldn't lock Jacob up in the house the way he kept me trapped.

"But she has blood on her hands; she deserves it," hissed Billy, and Jacob responded, "You're the one with blood on your hands, Dad. You're the one keeping an innocent young girl jailed for an accident. It was an accident, Dad! And if you're going to blame anyone, then blame Sam Uley's dad since he was the one driving drunk! But noooooo. He's 'one of the tribe and we protect our own,' right, Dad? And 'he didn't mean to,' right?

I could almost see Jacob's air-quotes around the familiar words, words I had heard them argue about before...but never like this. Jacob had never been so angry; now he was standing in the front yard, practically screaming at his dad whose wheelchair was on the front porch. With the front door open and their voices raised like never before, I could now hear every single ugly word.

"So just keep on blaming the wrong person, Dad, because she's an outsider, she's not part of the tribe. But don't forget how much Mom loved her, and how much she loved Mom! What would Mom think of how you're treating her, huh, Dad?"

I could almost hear Billy's face turn red with anger as he said, "Don't you dare being your mother into this, Jacob!"

Jacob laughed an eerie kind of laugh—mocking, without humor. "I'll bring Mom into this whenever I like; she was my mother!" His voice rose, and I've never, ever heard Jacob get so angry as he continued, "I can talk about her whenever I want to, and there isn't a thing you can do about it!"

Then a strange sound broke the choked silence between Jacob and Billy. I heard Billy's gasp and a quick whirring of his wheelchair wheels on the wet planks of the porch, then the slamming of the front door, followed by the ominous "click" of the deadbolt that was never used. La Push had little crime, and most people didn't bother to lock their houses at night, or they just used a knob lock as the Blacks did most of the time...if they remembered, that is.

Jacob didn't come back all night. He never brought me dinner or let me out as he usually did. And Billy stayed up, too. As I lay curled on my mattress on the floor of my room, fighting am empty stomach and a full bladder, I heard the wheelchair's wheels squeaking against the wooden floors; I also heard him on the phone several times.

I tried to sleep, but every time I awoke in the night, I could hear Billy moving around the house, or the low volume on the television, or Billy on the phone.

Without Jacob letting me out for my bedtime bathroom trip, I was in a bad state by morning. I finally worked out the bravery to pound on my door and ask Billy if I could use the bathroom. He let me out, then told me to grab some food from the kitchen and a couple of water bottles because I wasn't getting out until bedtime...unless Jacob came home early.

But Jacob didn't come home early; instead, he was gone for three days.

And when he finally returned, he was not the same Jacob who had left. And he hasn't been MY Jacob since then.

I sighed, missing my brother and best friend. I wish that whatever had happened that night a year ago could be undone somehow; then, I wouldn't have suffered so horribly rough the past year. And somehow Jacob started blaming me for his mother's death...just like Billy and the rest of the tribe who supported Sam Uley's dad over me. Over the outsider.

So although my short-lived taste of freedom and fresh air had been intoxicating, I adjusted fairly well to its loss. I had lost almost everything over the past ten years, so why not this situation as well.

It was obvious that God was punishing me for killing Sarah Black.

What else could be going on?

The weekend passed slowly; Jacob was away with his pack of friends most of the time, so I kept on studying my books, even trying to figure out calculus on my own...which ate up a lot of time. Who knew that I would actually grow to appreciate the tedious nature of calculus? I wasn't sure if I preferred being bored over being frustrated out of my ever-loving mind by the torture of calculus...

This time seemed a little better than before, mostly thanks to my textbooks. I saw Jacob eyeing them a few times when he brought in my evening meal, and I prayed that he wouldn't take them away from me; they were keeping me calm and sane. That should be a good thing, especially for Jacob. Right?

I heard Jacob making plans with Billy and on his cell phone for his birthday on Wednesday; he was planning to have a bunch of his friends over for a 17th birthday celebration. Billy would be at a council meeting for most of the evening, and when he returned, Jacob and his friends were planning to take the party down to First Beach and continue it there...with a keg of beer courtesy of one of the guys at the high school on the reservation.

Monday and Tuesday went by quickly, especially as I had decided to make Jacob a special birthday gift. I wasn't talented artistically, but I thought I could copy out one of the poems from my Shakespeare book for him. I had one piece left of the beautiful stationery that Sarah had given me for my twelfth birthday; it would be perfect to copy the poem...and would look amazing.

I spent Monday thumbing through Shakespeare's sonnets before settling on the perennial favorite, Sonnet 116. It was one of Shakespeare's better-known sonnets, but I also thought that it expressed mine and Jacob's comradeship over our time...if I ignored this last year.

On Tuesday I very carefully copied the poem using an old calligraphy pen that Sarah had given me along with the stationery, writing very slowly and deliberately because I only had one piece of the special paper left, a paper with butterflies on one corner and beautiful scrolls and wildflowers across the bottom.

I felt quite satisfied as I capped the calligraphy pen and admired my work. My penmanship wasn't stellar, but the extra care and time I had taken, along the advantage of the felt-tipped calligraphy pen, had transformed my sloppy scrawl into a neat, legible page.

Then an idea came to mind, and I ran to my closet, scrambling around until I found what I had sought: a nice wooden picture frame inset with glass on which I had glued sea shells years ago as a home school art project I had done with Sarah.

I looked at my page, admiring the delicate colors and my almost-calligraphy as I reread what I had spent hours copying:

Happy 17th Birthday, Jacob!

with love from Bella

January 14, 2006

Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Taking the frame back to my desk, I dusted the glass carefully before inserting my copy of Shakespeare's poem; I had to trim the stationery just a little bit to make it fit, but it looked wonderful. I surveyed my gift with pride, then found a single piece of white tissue paper in which I wrapped my gift. I didn't have tape or ribbon, but at least the picture was covered so that it would be a lovely surprise for Jacob.

I couldn't wait to give it to him.

This morning when Jacob brought me a granola bar, bottle of water, and an orange, I shyly wished him a "Happy Birthday," but his response was a scowl.

"When do you want your present?" I asked, not allowing myself to be daunted by his bad mood. Perhaps he was just angry that I was locked up...or was I kidding myself?

He looked at me, surprised, then an embarrassed smile quickly crossed his face before he stifled it. "Later," he mumbled, looking at his feet and avoiding my eyes as he strode from the room, deadbolting the door firmly behind him.

I didn't mind. Not really. His birthday party was coming up, and I was sure he'd let me out to celebrate. After all, he didn't want his friends to know they lock me up; our "deal" has always been that I get let out during his gatherings with friends in the Black home.

For appearances.

His friends were mostly cool, even though their dads were the ones who protected Billy when they knew he didn't care for me right. Oh, well. Gotta pick the battles, you know?

The day passed extremely slowly; my excitement over Jacob's gift and party made the hours positively drag. Jacob made it home just before Billy was ready to leave for his council meeting.

Finally I heard Billy bidding Jacob goodbye, telling him sternly to behave as one of the other tribal elders picked him up in a very noisy vehicle. Almost as soon as Billy disappeared, I heard more cars start to arrive. Just as the doorbell rang for the first time, I heard a welcome click from my door.

Jacob had unlocked the deadbolt on my bedroom door...his silent way of inviting me to the party.

Hours ago I had changed my clothes into the darker-wash jeans and the band t-shirt topped with the purple hoodie...my favorite outfit now. I slipped into the bathroom and brushed my hair quickly, loving the mahogany gleam that the lighting produced on my almost waist-long hair. I left it down rather than bundling it into a ponytail as usual.

Looking in the mirror, I actually almost liked what I saw. My cheeks were flushed with excitement, and the clothes I wore looked relaxed and "normal"; the hoodie helped to mask how thin I was. My hair shone, and so did my eyes.

I ducked back into my room to grab Jacob's present and slipped down the hallway toward the raucous noise coming from the living room.

Music was blasting from the stereo system where Jacob had docked his iPod, and a few couples were dancing in an area cleared of furniture. Pizza boxes were stacked on the dining room table, and assorted two-liter sodas were available on the far end, a teetering stack of red plastic cups beside the soda bottles and a small cooler of ice.

A few of Jacob's friends nodded tentatively at me as I made my way to the food; I hadn't eaten since this morning, and my stomach was growling with hunger. Grabbing a paper plate, I loaded it with two pieces of pizza and filled a cup with ice and root beer. I found a quiet corner and nestled into an armchair moved aside for dancing, watching the party with amusement, especially when I noticed Jacob's good friend Quil topping off almost everyone's Cokes from a slim bottle of amber liquid that I guessed was rum or bourbon.

This was going to be an interesting party for certain.

I was mostly ignored...which was how I liked it. The music was extremely loud, forcing most of the party-goers to shout over the music as they vainly attempted to have conversations. A few of Jacob's nicer friends stopped by to talk with me, but Jacob always arrived very soon after they started trying to chat, sending them on errands at first, then telling them to "fucking leave her alone, asshole."

Nice.

Jacob had obviously been imbibing a good number of shots from Quil's bottle, and I didn't like his possessiveness. Jacob spent his time at his party chatting up girls but constantly watching me out of the corner of his eye. When I got up to use the bathroom, he was with me in a split-second.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, Bella?"

I looked at him, noting his huge pupils in his red face. Maybe he had been doing some drugs as well as drinking; his expression was just...off.

"I need to use the bathroom, Jake," I said softly.

He grabbed my wrist roughly, pulling me to him. "Fine," he hissed evenly. "But you're coming with us when we go down to First Beach. Got it?"

"Sh-sh-sure, Jake. I w-want to go," I stuttered, the pain traveling down my arm as he twisted my wrist angrily.

I exclaimed at the sudden pain, gasping, and he released me, sighing. Looking away from me, he rubbed his face with his fingertips. He strode away, saying over his shoulder, "Don't forget a jacket; it's gonna be pretty cold down there."

I nodded, rubbing my now-aching wrist absently. Sometimes I don't think he knows his own strength, especially when it came to me...

But I had almost forgotten, so I ran up to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He wheeled around, looking annoyed, but I persisted, saying, "I have a present for you, Jacob; do you want it now or later?"

He smiled at me, and I nearly gasped. How long had it been since he had given me his signature "Jacob smile"? Despite his astronomical growth, for a moment he looked exactly like my Jacob...like the boy who had cared for me over the years before and after his mother's death, making sure that I was truly all right.

"Ummm, now?" Jacob finally answered uncertainly, his Jacob-smile still playing around the corners of his mouth.

"I'll be back in a split-second; I promise!" I exclaimed, running off to the bathroom. I used the facilities quickly, checking my reflection before I left; I looked excited and almost pretty. I smiled into the mirror before racing off to the small pile of gifts on a low table near the dining room.

Quickly locating mine (and noticing that the vast majority of gifts seemed to be the shape of liquor bottles), I snatched it up and practically danced back to the corner where I had settled for most of the party; Jacob waited for me there.

Shyly I handed him the lightly-wrapped frame. "I hope to like it," I murmured.

Jacob ripped away the thin tissue paper, revealing my framed copy of Shakespeare's Sonnet 116. He glanced at me, then read the poem to himself, his lips moving as he read.

When he finished, he looked up at me again, and his eyes were filled with tears. "Thank you, Bells," he said in a rough, choked voice before pulling me against him in a hug. "I love it. It's beautiful."

I hugged him back, feeling tears rising to my eyes as well. It has been so long since Jacob had hugged me, really hugged me.

Somehow, someway, all was right with my world.

For now.

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I so appreciate your wonderful support! And I have LOVED hearing from so many of you lately—so much fun!

I'm working on a one-shot written from Edward's POV; there's a preview available on my blog at http:/ CassandraLowery . Blogspot . com

HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE! LOVE YOU ALL!

May 2012 treat you well!

-Cassandra