Seasons came and changed the time
When I grew up, I called him mine
He would always laugh and say
"Remember when we used to play?

Now he's gone, I don't know why
And 'til this day, sometimes I cry
He didn't even say goodbye
He didn't take the time to lie

Bang bang, he shot me down
Bang bang, I hit the ground
Bang bang, that awful sound

Bang bang, my baby shot me down

Bang Bang - Nancy Sinatra

Charlie's patrol car was still gone when she pulled into the driveway. She loved her father, perhaps a bit differently from the way she loved Renee, but these days, she found herself dreading any extended conversation with him. He was just as concerned with her safety as ever, and it was difficult to appease him while also carrying on the way she had been. Charlie would have a stroke if he knew any of the things she'd gotten up to since Jake reappeared, which was ridiculous. She hadn't broken any laws or come home in a cast. She was an adult, after all. She didn't need his approval, though admittedly it would be nice to have. Omitting everything from him, from Mike Newton, and a handful of townies and high school acquaintances, was making her nervous. Keeping herself a secret had always been nerve-wracking, but now she was doing something that she was far riskier than swearing and cigarettes and women's lib. She was swiftly careening into unknown territory.

But the high, the enormous rush of excitement and pure happiness that surged through her veins every second they were together, was addictive. She had never been more reckless in her life than over the course of the last month, but she had also never felt more safe, nor more alive. He wouldn't let her fall, and neither would he have held her there a second longer than she wanted to. Did they even drop hands for the rest of the night? She couldn't remember. Is this what freedom felt like? Getting to goof off, go wild for a little bit, be nothing but Bella, even for just a couple hours? Those fresh memories played over and over again in her mind as she fell backwards onto her bed.

It was too forward, of course. She was supposed to wait for the boy to kiss her rather than the other way around, though judging by the look on his face, he didn't mind too much. Waiting around wasn't something she had much interest in anymore. It wasn't just her head now, or her heart, but something else. Being pressed against his broad chest, feeling the heat through their clothes, the intense look in his eyes, awoke something within her that she had only experienced fleeting moments of before. It felt like something was trying to burst out, bit by bit, and it was hungry.

Even though her head was still buzzing, she soon drifted off into a dreamless sleep that left her just as energized upon waking the following morning, which did not go unnoticed. When he joined her in the kitchen, she was tending to a skillet of eggs, humming the same tune as before. He regarded her suspiciously. Coffee in hand, he landed at the table and watched her work.

"Morning!"

"Morning, Bella," he grunted, presumably still groggy from his patrol. "How was your night?"

"Good." She hesitated, wondering how much detail to give him. It needed to be enough to satisfy him, while not enough to be incriminating or to catch her in a lie.

Lies of omission, really. Not the same thing.

"I met with a couple friends. Nothing crazy, I promise. I met some new people." She gave him a reassuring smile before quickly allowing breakfast to occupy her. He didn't care for fireworks, and he didn't care for alcohol either, provided that she was the one who drank it.

Not an omission.

"My friend Emily and her husband live not too far from campus. They invited me and a few other people over to their house for hot dogs," she continued, her brain hastily laying the tracks ahead of her mouth.

Complete and utter bullshit.

"Anyone I know?" She sucked in her breath.

This is why you never lie to Dad.

"Hmmm," she pondered. "I don't think you would know them. There was…um..." Think, damn you! "...Kim...and her boyfriend, some of her husband's friends, Rebecca, Leah…"

Charlie coughed mid-sip. Her concentration was broken, but the odd way he averted his eyes as he thumped himself on the chest told her it was time to quit while she was behind. He cleared his throat.

"Well, that's great," he replied, nodding and burying his face is the morning paper.

"Oh, I forgot: Edward called last night after you left."

"Did he?" The intentionally bored tone in her voice took on an unintentional sharpness. "What did he want?"

"What do you mean, 'what did he want'? To talk to you. I told him you were out with your friends and to call again tomorrow."

"Hmph." She scooped breakfast onto two plates and hoped that a mouthful of food would be enough to smother this conversation in its crib. She wolfed down her eggs, scraping butter across a pieces of toast so she would never be without something in her mouth.

"You should call him back, Bells. The boy sounded kinda rough when I talked to him."

"I don't want to talk to him."

He watched her carefully, before letting out a heavy sigh and swallowing whatever unsolicited advice he had prepared. Perhaps he was going to let it go, for once. He settled into his morning paper and they wrapped up breakfast in silence. She kissed her father, muttered something about work, and quickly departed.

The stupid boy had been floating around the shop all morning, like a cartoon character that just smelled a pie cooling on a window ledge. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. It was painfully obvious to anyone who'd been there that night. She watched them making eyes at each other all night, giggling like children while they danced to some sticky love song. It was absolutely nauseating, though the belly full of beer might also be to blame.

She regretted drinking as much as she did. Drinking always made her stupid. Emotional. Sappy, even. It weakened her defenses against the dumb little girl buried deep beneath layer after layer of rock-solid rage and disappointment. That little Pollyanna bitch was a giant pain in the ass, always whining for things she knew she couldn't have, and always just as dejected as the first time life told her 'no'. Wounds were never allowed to heal, just scab over and itch until she inevitably opened them up again. All of this she had learned to handle, but in a moment of weakness, Lee's voice became audible:

"Hey."

The brunette immediately turned away from those flammable fools in response. She looked tense and confused, but she didn't look scared. That was good. Leah could at least respect her for that. She wasn't some prissy dollop of whipped cream as previously thought. In fact, the way she was looking at Jacob was unsettlingly familiar, as was the idiotic grin plastered on his face all night. It had been so long that she'd forgotten. It should have stayed forgotten. Now she really wanted to vomit.

But that look, and what it meant, was a close second to those capsized memories. It would have been one thing if she screwed him and left, or even if she just played with her food for a while before she ate it. She'd hurt him, but he would move on eventually, and everything would go back to normal. He talked a big game like the others, but anyone who actually knew him could tell you it was all bullshit. She saw exactly what hid behind his brazen nonchalance, and it bruised like a peach. That stupid girl had more power than she had sense to wield it, but the worst part was that she was wasn't faking it.

Bella waited. Lee wrestled the microphone back again.

"Listen, girlie," she started, casting a quick look towards the brothers. "I see you two. I know. I get it, too. Probably better than anyone else here." It took a minute, but she could see it click in real time, Bella's expression twisting from curiosity, to recognition, to discomfort.

Of-fucking-course he told her.

"Which is why I'm telling you now: Don't you dare break his heart. I don't know why, but I think you get know better than any of these knuckleheads, so you should know what a goddamn crime it is to hurt him."

She didn't know why she was saying any of this. She shouldn't be encouraging it. Sam's thoughts about it were clear, though not as loudly and crudely advertised as Paul's. She knew exactly how this story was going to end. It was only a matter of time. Still.

"So promise me."

Bella nodded carefully. "I won't. I promise."

"Good."

At least the girl could keep her mouth shut. Jacob would have already chewed her out if he caught wind of their conversation, or rather her mandate. Though perhaps Leah was the one who should have kept it shut.

Due to the exceptional heat and slow business, the boys had declared it a shirts-off day. That sad little fan was doing nothing to keep them all from sweating like pigs. It was appropriate; most of them were pigs. The biggest one of them all had decided to show up today and work instead of napping or bullying the younger ones. She didn't care so much about Quil and Embry, or the guys who were big enough to make it a fair fight, but Sethy was a whole other ballgame. He was too sweet to be corrupted by these pricks, and he was probably the weakest link, but her mother had some idea in her head that he was going to take over the 'Clearwater' half of the shop. Her father always said it was her responsibility to carry on the legacy, but now that he was gone, there was nobody left to champion the cause.

Seth's cause seemed to be Jake's lately. She'd never seen a guy give a shit about someone else's girlfriend before without also wanting to fuck her, but Bella was the shiny new toy, a girl in the group who was pretty and fun and not a 'nagging harpy.' She half expected those two to burst into some Rogers & Hammerstein number, and it was setting her teeth on edge.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!"

Paul's booming voice carried through the wall, along with the ringing of metal on concrete. With a huff, she tossed down her pencil and went to investigate.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Seth was scrambling to pick up the contents of box of bolts, which had rolled and bounced away in all directions. She knew that face. One more snap was all it was gonna take to unleash the waterworks.

"Hey! Leave the kid alone. It was an accident, alright?" At least she could count on Jacob to look after him.

"What the hell is wrong with both of you?" Paul shot back. "It's bad enough we have to deal with your pansy bullshit, but now Babyface is doing it too."

"You better watch it, asshole," Jake growled through his teeth. Paul's face was nearly purple.

"Or what? What're you going to do? Recite poetry at me?"

"I'll put your fucking lights out is what I'll do."

The others were frozen in place, all holding their breath while they waited, hoped, for this storm to pass.

"Great idea. Make sure you've got a black eye for when she brings you home for dinner to meet her parents. Oh, wait…"

"Shut up! Just shut up right now!" He was practically vibrating from anger, fists clenched and poised to pounce should Paul decide to take him up on his offer. "Just because you couldn't keep a girl-"

"-I don't wanna keep one of 'em! Jesus Christ, Jacob. Are you soft in the head? Do you really not get how this works? You keep that stuff separate. You don't see me taking some white broad to the bonfire like she's my girlfriend. You better pray her daddy doesn't find out and come blow all our heads off just because his daughter is a slu-"

He finally found the line. Jake's fist landed with a deafening sound, and it only took a few seconds for Paul to register what had just happened before launching into him for a reprisal. She joined her brothers in trying to untangle this hard mass of swinging arms before they killed each other. It was nearly over as quickly as it began, but not quickly enough to spare Paul the broken nose. Still heaving, he jerked himself out of Quil's grasp before spitting blood onto the pavement and storming off. There was still murder in Jacob's eyes, and she feared one of them would get a second wind. She swung the office door open and shoved him inside, locking it behind her.

He paced, eyes wild and hands combing through his hair. Against her better judgement, she allowed herself to pity him. They were insane, he and the girl. Foolishly trying to keep each other warm while they hovered somewhere between where they belonged and where they wanted to be, and trying to drown out the ticking of the time bomb they set. It was wrong, but then again, she wasn't in a position to be throwing stones. She was still bracing for her own aftershocks.

"Sit down before you wear a hole in the carpet. It's ratty enough as it is."

She leaned on the edge of the desk, waiting for him to simmer down enough to listen to reason.

"Black...Jacob..."

Where do I even start?

"Is that what the others think?" She closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh.

"Not exactly. I don't think the younger ones care much, but I don't need to tell you what Sam thought when he saw her at the beach."

"Fucking hypocrite," he spat.

"Yeah, no shit, Jake. What did you think he was gonna say? 'Congrats'? He's next in line. He has to put the tribe first."

"Throwing us under the bus to protect the tribe, huh? Hope he warmed up before those mental gymnastics. That's how you pull a muscle."

"You put him there, remember," she replied darkly.

"You better not be blaming me for what happened. He made his choice, and he's a fucking coward for it. I can't believe you're taking his side."

"I am not taking his side," she hissed. "And I don't blame you, either. He chose her, again, and for the last time, and there's nothing I can do."

"He didn't fight for you. He just folded and let them split you apart. I could never do that. He's weak, and I hope he regrets it every day of his life."

"This isn't the same thing, Jake. You have to know that." His eyes narrowed.

"The hell it isn't!"

For the only one of the pack to graduate high school, he was incredibly stupid sometimes. She hoped she wouldn't have to do this, but the frustration was threatening to bubble over. At least she could tell herself that she tried to protect him, even though he was a man now.

"Just stop for a second and use your head!" She swallowed and tried to remember how her mother talked in times like these. "It's not just the elders that are the problem. It's everyone. It's the whole goddamn world. Can you call her? Pick her up? Take her to dinner in that tiny hick town?"

"We'll figure it out."

"Meet her parents?"

"Her mom will understand," he mumbled.

"The mom isn't the one you have to worry about." He looked away, but she followed him. Paul was an unrelenting piece of shit, but even a broken clock is right twice a day. "Listen to me, Jake. Even if you're right, even if everything works out and you manage to find somewhere you can be together, you know what will happen."

"I never wanted to come back anyways."

"I wasn't talking about you."

Her words hung in the air like smoke, thick and noxious and blurring his vision. He had no response, and she had nothing left to say. Speaking harshly and bluntly was her trademark, for which she felt no guilt, and it was rarely enough to draw blood. Nonetheless, now that she was looking at it from the other side, she realized that these words stung as much to say as they did to hear.

"It'll be okay. I'll find a way."

The shrill ringing of the telephone startled them both. She wrenched it off the receiver and muttered her customary greeting

"Hello... Leah? Is he there?"

She exhaled slowly and squeezed her eyes shut, limply reaching out to offer him the handset.

"It's for you."