A/N: Hi, I'm back. My computer saga is finally over!

I'm hoping that I'll be able to catch up quickly in the next couple of weeks, so I can get back to where I was before I started over.

Also, I've contemplated making the playlist I made for this story public. I don't know if anyone would actually care, but it's something that I've been mulling over.

Happy reading!

17. Sink In

That I'm weighed down by your beautiful
Collapsing underneath your perfect
Drowning in your wonderful
And I'm letting you sink in
It's, it's almost unbearable
I'm suffering inside your magic
Love you something terrible
And I'm letting you sink in
And I'm letting you sink in

- Sink In, Amy Shark

I look at the blank page that I have my sketchpad open to, feeling utterly uninspired. My art teacher, Ms. Cope, told us to draw how we were feeling, cliché, I know. If I were to draw exactly how I'm feeling, I'm pretty sure that I'll get sent to the principal's office because it would be me with a dagger in my heart.

It's been a few days since Edward dropped the bombshell and I've been very emo since. Tanya. I hate that name with a fiery passion, and I want to throw darts at her picture. He'd totally blindsided me. Sure, I'd just told him about Jacob, but going on one date is totally different than dating someone for months. They were on different planes and not comparable at all.

I'm also jealous and angry. At the moment, more angry than jealous. It made me feel like what we'd shared hadn't meant as much to him as it did to me. That what we'd had had been a thing of convenience.

Being the crazy emo bitch that I've become, I've been avoiding most contact with him, except when I can't, like at lunch or in Latin or in the car on the way to and from school. Everyone seems to be oblivious to my sudden transformation. The novelty of having Edward back hasn't worn off for them like it has for me. None of my friends can stop asking him questions about what LA is really like and what he'd done out there, or if he'd met any celebrities. Meanwhile, I sit there jabbing my fork rather forcefully into my salad, imaging it's his head.

Was it irrational to be this angry? Yes. Did I care? No. I'm a sixteen-year-old girl after all. We live for that teenage angst.

Ms. Cope's making a round of the classroom, observing the work that my peers are coming up with. When she gets to me, she pauses, looking down at my sketchbook in surprise.

I tap my pencil against the paper, waiting for her to say something, because I know as soon as she peels herself off the floor, she's going to. My paper is never blank.

"Is everything okay, Bella?" she looks as at me with her brows furrowed and with real concern etched into her features. She can sense that something is up, something that is more than just art, I can tell by her face and I wonder if she has kids because she has the perfect mom face.

I shrug my shoulders, looking frustratedly down at my blank paper. "Is it possible to have art block? You know, like writer's block?" This has never happened to me. Everything in my life's been thrown off kilter.

She laughs lightly, "Yeah, it is." Ms. Cope stands there for a second longer before moving on, taping the table lightly with her knuckle. She continues her rounds, complimenting my fellow students on their work before she ends up back at her desk.

Not knowing what else to do, I draw a whirling vortex in the middle of the paper.

When the bell rings, the entire student body hurriedly runs out of the school, eager to start their weekend. I, on the other hand, have work to look forward to. Mom and Dad have us work most Friday afternoons and weekends, with some shifts here and there during the week.

I make my way out of the school and to Edward's car. He and Emmett are already there, deep in a conversation about something. More than likely discussing the newest Call of Duty or Halo or whatever's just come out. I kind of tune them out when they start talking about that stuff, so my ears don't start bleeding.

"Hey, Bella." Edward greets me with a sense of apprehension. He's been trying, while I've been freezing him out. The poor guy's been trying to start conversations with me, like at lunch, or asking my opinions at about things. All I've been giving him in return has been a shrug of the shoulders or one words answers. And I feel a pang of guilt in my ice-covered heart.

"Hey," my alter ego crazy emo bitch says, getting into the backseat of his car. I'm being cold, too cold. And I know it. I'm being very immature.

I sit in the backseat, looking out the window as he drives my brother and I to the restaurant. I'm being ridiculous and I know. Had my feelings been hurt? Yes. Did that give me the right to be a bitch to him when he's clearly trying? No. He's been trying to try to be my friend and to break through the wall of ice that I've built, and I haven't let him.

When we pull into the parking lot of the restaurant, I open my mouth to say something meaningful, to apologize, something. But it isn't what comes out of my mouth.

"You're coming inside?" I ask, confused as he parks the car.

"Your parents gave me a job. I thought you knew." He looks sheepishly at me from the front seat. Obviously, with my reaction, I've made him uncomfortable, and it makes me feel worse than I already do.

"Oh," Wow, I sound so intelligent.

Great, is there any part of my life that isn't going to involve him?

Dad's standing at the hostess podium when we walk in, going over the section that Charlotte, a waitress that's my age, will be working this evening. She's not tall, but not short and has big, brown doe eyes. Her brown hair's cut short and choppy; if it were on any other person, it would look weird, but on her it looks great. She also drives a beat-up old VW bug that her dad restored for her. She goes to Cary High, Green Hope's biggest rival. She and I have become close since she started working here a few months ago. We often bond over our hatred of Geometry.

"Hi, Bella!" Charlotte greets me with a smile, when she looks at my brother, she blushes and looks away. Oh yeah, she also has a massive crush on my brother.

"Edward!" Dad walks over to him and starts to lead him away. "let's give you the tour."

"New guy, huh?" Charlotte comments when she gets her voice back, trying to make small talk.

I adjust my bag on my shoulder, "Yeah." I clear my throat because suddenly this feels awkward, but I'm more than sure that it's just on my end. "I have to go change."

I make my way into the back of the restaurant where the employee lockers are. I stash my stuff in the one labeled with my name and change into my uniform, throwing my hair in a ponytail so that I won't be able to play with it for the rest of the night. Then, I head to the front to see what tables I will be covering tonight.

Throughout the evening, Edward and I don't see each other. The only time that I do, is when dad introduces him to Paul, our manager, who is a junior at NC State and a huge kiss ass. Emmett and Edward are both bus boys, so while all three of us end up in the kitchen, I stay mostly in the front of the house

I'm one of those crazy people that actually enjoys my job. I like interacting with people, and most of them are nice back to me. Very rarely do I get someone that makes me angry. But, tonight do I get one of those.

As soon as the woman comes in, still talking on her phone, I can tell by her attitude that she is going to be difficult. When I greet her, she actually sticks her finger up at me. I contain the fire and wait for her to get off the phone. When she does, she flips her long, blonde hair over her shoulder, telling me with her gestures that she thinks that she is better than me. She then has the audacity to tell me to put her at a "good" table and that she doesn't want to get a "bitchy" waitress like she did last time. She's one of those customers that if I didn't have a conscience, I'd have no problem spitting in her food.

Because my section is full, I make sure to put her Jane's section instead of Charlotte's because I'm pretty sure that this woman would made her cry, and Jane has a much thicker skin.

Close to closing time, it's slowed down and I wander over to the back of the restaurant where Charlotte's wrapping silverware so I can help her.

"The new guy is so cute," Charlotte whispered conspiratorially to me from the other side of the booth, looking over to where Edward's standing with Emmett clearing a table at the front of the restaurant. She's biting her lip and I'm sure that if she didn't stop soon, I'm going to have to get her a drool bucket.

I finish wrapping the silverware that I'd started, putting it with the growing pile of ones that she's already done. "Yeah, he's cute." My response is more blasé than I originally intended.

She looks at me with shocked, wide eyes, clearly, she doesn't take too kindly to my not-so-impressed response. With her eyes like that, she looks very much like Alice and I half expect her to start vibrating. "He's not just cute he's…."

"Off the chart." I finish for her, using the words that Rose used to describe him many moons ago when we were spying on him in my foyer.

"Yeah," she says, before pausing, her eyes going from me, back to him, then to me again. I can actually see the lightbulb pop on the second that she realizes exactly who Edward is and that I have talked her ear off about him several times the past few months. "Oh my God!" she squeaks out, "that's the guy!"

I blush and shush her, because she's being quite loud, and I don't want anyone else to hear.

She gets the hint and lowers her voice, leaning towards me some more, her voice low, like she's planning a heist. "I thought that you said he was in California?"

"He was." I grab some more silverware and start wrapping it while she lets the words sink in.

"It's like an epic love story, you know." Her eyes are bright, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes at how ridiculous she's being. Charlotte is big on romance novels; she eats that shit up and I think that it's gone to her head a bit too much. "You two were separated and you get back together…"

"We're not back together." I snip, Tanya's image pops into my head and I shake it off.

"Not yeah," Charlotte goes back to wrapping silverware. "It's obvious you totally still have a thing for him."

"And you totally have a thing for my brother, but I don't see you doing anything about it." She's been gaga over him since the day that she started working here and my brother's too dense to notice.

"Your brother thinks that I'm annoying." She pouts some when she says this. She really does have it bad for my oaf of a brother. Why, I'll never know. She's way too good for him.

"He does not." I argue, but she just lifts her brow at me. I didn't know what my brother thinks of her, but I'm not going to tell her that. I know what it's like to have a crush on a guy and have them not see you. I'm not going to add to her angst.

"I'm so awkward around him that all I do is end up laughing at everything he says," she buries her head in her hands like that will make her less humiliated. "He must think I'm such an idiot."

"You're so putting my brother on a pedestal he doesn't deserve." I saw Emmett the way that other people didn't. To me, he's my tormentor who locked me in a closet when we were ten and refused to let me out. He doesn't clean up after himself and farts all the time, sometimes on me. It makes me physically uncomfortable when girls talk about how cute he is, because I don't get it. But, then again, I think it's against my genetic make-up to get it.

She looks at me like I've just taken away her puppy, "You don't get it, Bella. Your brother is hot. Like… really hot." She huffs, her chin falling in her hand. "I just want him to see me."

I follow her line of vision to the two guys carrying dirty dishes into the kitchen, laughing on the way. I know exactly how she feels. It's like an ache in my chest because I want to be seen, too. It sucks when you think that you aren't.

At the end of night, Paul lets us out before he locks up. Dad went home a few hours ago. Charlotte waves goodbye to me as she walks to her car at the back of the lot. The ride home is quiet. Edward puts on some music that I don't recognize, probably his way of trying to cover up the tension. I want to say something to him, but I don't know what. By the time that he pulls up in front of our house, I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm a wuss. This shouldn't be this hard and I'm putting way too much pressure on myself and overthinking the whole thing. I just want my friend back at least.

Emmett fist pumps Edward before getting out of the car. I hesitate for a minute, berating myself for not saying anything. It's not that hard, all I have to do is open my mouth, but I don't. Because as I've already established, I'm a wuss.

Frustrated with myself, I throw open my door and get out.

"Bella." Edward's voice makes me halt and my heart sputter and my hands shake.

I turn to see him running up the walk after me.

"Can we talk?" He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking at me like he's expecting me to turn him down.

I gulp, "Sure." Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.

I take a seat on the porch steps, waiting for him to follow, wondering where this could possibly be going.

Edward sits next to me on the porch step, his leg touching mine. Just like at lunch, I know this isn't an accident, but I still don't move my leg. No matter how turbulent my emotions are, no matter how I feel about the whole Tanya thing, I miss him being my friend more.

"I'm sorry," he whispers his voice so soft.

"What about?" I look at him, momentarily taken back by the emotion swimming in his green eyes; it's overwhelming.

"Tanya."

My breath stutters. This is the last thing that I expected him to want to talk about.

"You have nothing to apologize for." My voice is weaker than I want it to be. The reminder that she's real is like a kick in the gut, and the anger and jealousy I feel makes me feel like a hypocrite, because I went out with Jacob. I'd been trying to get over him because I thought that I'd never see him again. And he probably thought he'd never see me again, either.

We were two sides of the same coin.

"I hurt you."

"Here I thought I was hiding it so well," I joke because this is getting way too heavy.

"Bella," his voice takes on a seriousness that I've never heard before. His tone and the look on his face says that he doesn't appreciate me turning this into a joke.

"I don't understand why you feel like you have to." I reply, looking at down at my hands. There's paint on my thumbnail that I try to scrape off.

"Come on, Bella," he sounds slightly exasperated now. "you know why." He his body down to where I'm hiding my face, his brows raised.

I stop my paint scraping and look at him. I do know why. It was how we left things, how we said we'd see about us when he got back. We never got an ending, we got an incomplete, our fading off into nothing. He wasn't just apologizing for hurting me, he was apologizing for what he saw as breaking our promise. A promise that's been made nearly impossible to keep because of our time apart. I'd grown up since we last saw each other. I wasn't her anymore. We couldn't pick up where we left off because we didn't know each other. But maybe we can get there someday. And even if we don't, we'd at least have closer.

"I know, I know."

"I thought I wasn't coming back."

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. I'm sorry, too."

He sighs heavily, "I feel like I fucked everything up."

I put my hand on top of his where rests on the porch, "You didn't fuck anything up."

He fingers thread through mine and gives my hand a squeeze as we lapse into a semi-awkward silence.

"Can I ask you something? I'll understand if you don't want to answer." I ask after a beat.

He gives my hand another squeeze. "You can ask me anything."

"Was it serious?"

"No," he doesn't hesitate as he answers. "Tanya and I met around the time that you and I stopped talking. I was lonely and she was going through something similar. It was more of a friends with benefits situation." His voice trails off at the end, and he won't look at me.

"Oh," I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. Why did knowing that they'd slept together hurt so much? Why did I want it to be me so bad?

"Sorry…" he starts, but I interrupt him.

"I'm just surprised, that's all." I look at my feet, not knowing what else to say. It's a lot to process and I try not to imagine them together like that, or I'll throw up. It hurts to know that he did that with her, but I have to remind myself that we weren't together, and I don't have a claim on him.

We're quiet again for a few seconds.

"Can I ask one more thing?" I look him the eyes again.

"You know you can."

"Why did you come back?" I search his face while he tries to find the words to say.

"I was tired of fake people. I wanted something real." When his eyes meet mine, I see everything that he isn't saying. That he missed it here, missed me.

"I'm happy you're back."

"Me, too." He pulls me into his side, his arm wrapping around my back and I swear I feel him kiss my hair.

"I should go inside," I reluctantly pull away from him and stand, waiting for him to join me.

"See you tomorrow."

"Yeah," I turn to head inside, but his voice stops me.

"Bella," I turn my head to look at him, "Are we okay?"

"Yeah, we're okay." I close the door behind me, not even believing myself.