" 'You know, I have a dream every night that I'm running my lips down along her spine, like a skiff down the river.' "

-Colum McCann, Let the Great World Spin

Monday morning dawned beautifully.

Actually, that's a lie.

I awoke from my three hours of blissful sleep to the sound of my phone ringing incessantly at some godawful hour.

I scowled at the morning light peeking hesitantly through my window. My hand searched blindly for the phone, sliding clumsily along my night table, knocking everything over, including the damn thing which—annoyingly enough—wouldn't stop ringing.

When I finally was able to get it open, I was pissed, tired, and well. Pissed.

"Jake!" I growled into the phone.

"Hello Bella," he replied, chipper as ever.

"This better be fucking important." It seemed my tone couldn't develop into anything more than a snarl.

"I take it you're not a morning person." I could hear smirk in his voice.

"No shit."

"Sorry."

"No, you're not." I could feel a grin tugging my lips despite my squinty eyes.

"No, I'm not," he amended.

I checked the clock on my desk. "Jesus Christ, do you mind telling me why you called at fucking 6 o'clock in the morning?"

"Language, Bella."

"Speak now or I'm hanging up the phone and going back to bed."

"You and I both know you won't fall back asleep."

"Your point, Jake?" I sighed.

"I miss you."

"I still don't see why you couldn't wait another couple of hours to tell me." I rubbed my eyes.

"Because I miss you?" He repeated, this time sounding less sure of himself.

"Right."

He paused, deliberating. "Let's get out of here. I'll pick you up and we can just take a break from everything."

I sighed again, hating the sound of it. "I can't. I do have to go to school, you know."

"Come on, Bellsa, it's your last week of high school," he whined. "You can't spare just one day?"

"I have…" I stopped, searching for the right word. "Obligations."

He snorted. "Oh, like making sure you don't trip on your graduation gown?"

I opened my mouth to say something that would probably make my mom blush but then I considered the high chances of that actually happening and instead I said, "Look, I just can't ok?"

I could picture his face smoothing over, concern building in his eyes. "Sure, Bells. That's fine."

A long silence drifted between us.

"Sorry for snapping at you," I finally whispered.

He didn't reply.

"Jake—" I started to say.

"So, are you one of them now?"

I looked at my phone in confusion, marveling at how quick this boy switched gears. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Jesus, Bella, seriously? Don't get all high and mighty on me. I don't know what to think-people are starting to say stuff and you haven't returned any of my –"

"Fuck you, Jake. I don't answer to you…or anyone else in this town."

"—phone calls."

I took a deep breath. "And when did you start giving a shit about what people think?"

"God, Bella. They were talking about you. Why shouldn't I—"

"Yeah?" My anger rose to a new level. "Well call the fucking cops, Jake. It's not like gossip is a crime in this stinking town. If it was, well, everyone would be a criminal. And second of all, I'm a big girl. It's not your job to look out for me. I don't need you to protect me all the time."

"Oh that's right, because you have Edward now." His voice was calm. Cold.

It hurt.

Because I didn't really mean what I was saying…I was just going off of blind feeling.

Forcing my walls back up again. My defense mechanism.

Because that's what I do, right?

I push people away.

That's what I'm good at.

"You're such a hypocrite, you know that?" He said, and it was a quiet accusation.

It left me smarting.

"Yeah." I replied. "We all are."

"How can you even—" He huffed in aggravation and then started again. "Are you even hearing yourself right now?"

"Yes, Jake. I read you and me and everyone else in the whole fucking world loud and clear."

And then I did hear myself. I sounded dead—weak and tired.

"Well then, fucking listen to what I'm saying." He seethed.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying…" He paused. "I'm saying don't forget…about me. About what you used to be."

"Oh stop being ridiculous, you act like I've changed or something…But God, Jake, I'm still exactly-"

I stopped.

Maybe I was lying to myself.

I had changed.

But not because I was a pansy or because I wanted to be in or out or anywhere at all or because like everyone else in high school, I wanted to be cool and popular and seen.

I did it because I was desperate for something.

Because I wanted to reach out blindly and fall in love and take a risk and just God…be different.

We listened to each others' breaths for I don't know how long.

No.

I'm not one of them.

I mouthed the words, longing for them to come out.

To be voiced.

I'm not one of them.

"I—" My voice choked off, because suddenly—out of nowhere—I sort of, kind of, felt grown-up.

No more running.

"Jake, do you remember what you told me that one night? When you gave me those gloves?"

"I remember." He finally said, but it was grated, aged. "I told you that—"

"I'm me." I murmured.

And it was sort of freeing.

"Bella…"

"Talk is shit, Jake. Life is shit. The whole thing…is just shit." I pulled the covers up to my chin. "But when it's suddenly not shit and free and bearable…you realize that there's a world out there…with people and places and dreams hanging from the clouds…that there are so many things to see, to breathe. Things you need—"

I stopped again, the fuzziness of sleep fading. "You're suddenly alive again."

I stomped down the stairs, tripping on the last step. It had nothing to do with the fact that I couldn't open my eyes more than a squint.

"Christ," I muttered.

I stumbled into the kitchen, my eyes zeroing in on the coffee machine.

"Morning, Bells."

I whipped around and squinted further at my father, who was sitting at the table looking over the morning paper.

"Hi Dad." I mumbled. "Coffee?"

"I already have a cup, thanks. There's plenty left over."

"Thank God," I muttered as I reached for my mug. The only mug I used for coffee. Ever.

After putting in the required sugar and cream I leaned back against the counter, blowing into my cup and letting my fingers be warmed.

"I don't usually see you putting around this early, kid."

"I don't know if putting around is what I'd call it."

He barked a laugh, raising his coffee mug in mock salute.

I stared down at my coffee.

"You've been quiet lately," Charlie said, not prying or curious, just letting me steer.

I thought of my conversation with Jacob, his words echoing around in my head. Let's go somewhere.

Let's get out of here.

Okay, was what I finally told him. Just not today.

Live on the edge a little, Bellsa.

You worry too much.

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Took a deep breath. Then opened it again."This whole college thing…I just don't really know if it's for me."

He looked at me not in surprise, not in that taken-aback-out-of-nowhere-deer-in-the-headlights way, but just pure Charlie. His warm eyes comforting me with that calm stare.

"How do you mean?" He asked slowly.

I swallowed. "Well, I just have no idea what I want to do—"

"Stop right there." I looked up, startled, and met his stern gaze. "That's exactly what college is for. I'd be worried if you did know exactly what you wanted to do."

"But—"

"No buts, Bella. I'm just proud to have a daughter who made the wise decision to even go to college."

"Even if I decide I want to be a philosophy major?" I blew on my coffee some more.

"Even then," he said, chuckling. "But Bella…you gotta let yourself live a little. You're smart, I know you're smart—I mean, you're my baby—and I trust that you'll make the right decisions in the long run, but honey…I just want to see you happy."

I let the word sink into me, wondering what it meant. What my definition of happiness was. And looking into my dad's crinkly coffee eyes, I thought I could almost grasp the edges of it.

"What about you, tough guy? How you ever gonna survive without me?" I tested the contents of my mug.

He yawned, rubbing his belly, his eyes back on the newspaper. "I have no idea."

I trudged back up the stairs to take a shower. I thought about words like happy and fulfillment and satisfaction as I stared at the suds gathering around the drain.

As I wiped off the perspiration on my mirror, I thought about change. I mean, it doesn't really ever hit you, does it? It's not this crash collision that occurs suddenly, stealing your breath away.

It's sort of gradual.

It's sort of cyclical.

It sneaks up on you.

And before you know it…you see the person in the mirror. And she's different—a little more worse for wear, a little bit aged, a tired glint in her eye, a hidden smirk on her lips, that dimple in her chin—and you realize…that she kind of looks familiar.

She kind of…sort of…looks like you.

A careful finger traced the dark circle beneath my right eye. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

I surveyed the mystery man before me, all scruff and sweatshirt and warm. "Can't sleep."

He sat down across from me, obviously not pacified by my answer. I traced an etching in the cold, stone table we currently occupied. Class started in five minutes.

He tugged off the hood of my jacket. My wet hair tumbled out.

"Christ, Bella you're gonna catch fucking pneumonia!" His voice was half serious, half laughing.

"Yes, Edward, of course I am. In the middle of June." I leveled my eyes at him, a smile curving my lips at the sight of his playful gaze.

"Hmmm," he murmured, pulling me closer and sliding his fingers into my cold hair. "You smell nice."

His lips pressed against the corner of my mouth. "You smell like smoke."

I turned my head so his lips could just touch mine already.

"You like it," He chuckled against my mouth.

I'm laying in the bed of my truck attempting to blow smoke rings, when Rosalie suddenly sighs beside me.

"Look at that little patch of blue sky right there, between the clouds." She points a finger up, waving away my smoke.

I squint my eye. "Yeah, I see it. What's so great about it?"

She sighs again. "I don't know. I love stuff like that."

I flick my cigarette. "Stuff like what?"

She sits up, looking down at me disdainfully. "You know…stuff that you don't really see at first…that you can miss if you're not looking carefully. But when you do see it…and it's there, you wonder how you could've ever missed it in the first place."

I thought of the day that I first saw her.

The day I first saw her, truly and vulnerable and so goddamn real, that it choked me.

I observed her baggy jeans and cut-off shirt and quiet laughter and thought, this was worth it.

"God." I tipped my head back, suddenly a bit dizzy and high, high off of life. "High school, man."

Rosalie was silent for a time, staring at that blue puzzle piece in the sky, the one that matched her eyes. "Yeah." She looked at me, poised and knowing and no longer a ghost. "I know exactly what you mean."

And that was when I realized Rosalie Hale…the girl who was once lost and existing in a shell of herself…was reborn with laugh lines and headbands with bows and biting wit.

And goddamn…that was just…well, that was it.

Completion and rites of passages and all that jazz.

"So this is where you guys sneak off to at lunch…" A familiar voice snuck into my epiphany. I reached for another cig, while Rose put her hands in the air.

"You caught us," she giggled.

I stole a quick glance at the boy who made my heart pound, only to quickly look away upon meeting his too-green ones.

"Very nice," he complimented, taking in the scenery of the surrounding neighborhood.

"I quite like it," I responded, trying not to look at him in all his disheveled glory.

He snagged my cigarette, taking a long drag. I tried to ignore the way his eyes lingered on me, the cold touch of his fingers pressed against mine for less than a second.

Rose just laughed at us.

"Em's looking for you." Edward informed Rosalie.

"Is he now?"

He bobbed his head. "He gets lonely around this time."

Rosalie chuckled again. "The big baby…" she muttered under her breath. She looked up at me suddenly. "Hey, what are you wearing for graduation, Bella?"

I looked to Edward for help. "Uhhh, jeans and a t-shirt?"

For a second, it looked like Rose might actually cry. Edward shook with silent laughter. "W-what about the after-party?"

I stuttered over my answer, scared shitless she might burst into tears. "I wasn't actually planning on going to that…"

"Bella," she shifted onto her knees, into begging position, "will you please, please let me take you shopping? Just this one time…it won't be horrible, I promise!"

I wondered when she decided to dye her hair black and lose a good six inches. "Can you guarantee that?"

She nodded her head vigorously.

I sighed in resignation. "Alright. But you owe me like a shitton of baked goods. And I'm gonna hold you to that."

"We're not going to the after-party," Edward whispered into my ear.

Rosalie stood up, brushing off the invisible lint on her jeans. "I heard that, Edward Cullen!"

I grabbed my cigarette back as Rose hopped over the side of the truck.

"I'm gonna go get my prince in shining armor." She huffed, strutting away, her blond hair whooshing from side to side.

Edward and I snickered. "It's knight in shining—"

She turned quickly, flipping us off with both hands, before turning around again to continue said strutting.

Edward grabbed my waist, pulling me over the side to where he stood.

"Hi," he said, just looking at me.

"Hi." I said back.

I took a breath, blindly reaching for his hand. And when his fingers twisted with mine, and we were one—pulling and grasping—it didn't really hurt anymore.

You guys are all so lovely. I am so sorry about the wait. School year just kicked back up again so everything's a bit hectic around here. Please, please know that you have my sincerest apologies for making you wait so godawfully long.

Until next chapter.