A/N: A quick thank you to everyone who added this story to their alerts and/or added it to their favorite list. It truly means a lot to me.

Chapter 13-

Bella's POV-

"So?" Jake raised an eyebrow at me in question, "Horror, Romantic, Comedy, Action, Drama, your pick?"

I smiled at him, shaking my head slightly, "Romantic is out of question- I am so not in the mood for that shit," Also, I was not stupid enough to watch two lovers kiss while I sat next to the person who had possibly dreamt of kissing me since years now. So not doing that! "And so is drama. Living with Leah, I get enough of that in my daily life."

He let out a chuckle, a silent agreement visible in his eyes. "So, horror?"

"Yup, seems like it."

I liked horror movies.

They were scary.

There was no extreme kissing or making out, never of the kind that made you stare at the wall in discomfort for the entirety of the scene.

And also, needless to mention, there would be no awkwardness at the end of those hundred or hundred and twenty minutes, especially when said lovers got their happily ever after.

And that was what was important.

I could deal with the nightmares; what was Leah by my side for?

Sure, she could kick me all she wanted, but I would not let her go, had I to feel scared in the middle of the night.

So, see, it all works out.

"Okay then." Jake chuckled, leaving me in awe to ponder over how masculine his voice had become over the years. He sounded like a man, not like that kid I had known the last time we had shared a real conversation. "I will start the movie…."

"I will make the popcorn." I offered cheerfully, standing up from the couch I had been seated on, walking in the direction of the cookies. "Cheese for me, and Caramel for you?"

"You know me, Bell." He winked, making me blush- for some unknown reason. "Oh, get the Doritos out, will you?"

"And the M&M's that are hidden in the left- hand side corner in the first cabinet- behind the soup cans, so that no one but you can eat them. I will get that out, too, Jake." I smiled widely, shaking my head at the predictability of the man.

Jake loved this food.

And even more than that, he loved his food while we were watching a movie. It was a childhood habit; Jake could never watch TV (or a movie) without having something to munch on. He just needed it. He would much on nuts, if he could find nothing else worthwhile in the house.

But he needed something- anything- to eat, and that was not to be forgotten.

Sarah used to keep a separate 'movie stock' for this very purpose, hiding it from the others so that when the time for its use came, it hadn't already been eaten by one of the twins or by Billy who could find nothing else to eat, no one but her privy of where that stash was….

I sighed internally, a sad smile overtaking my face as I thought back to those beautiful days that I had once witnessed in this very house; Sarah Black being much more to me than just my best friend's mother.

She was like a second mother to me, her comfort and caress like none other. She cared for and loved everyone- irrespective of their actions, her death being the unexpected tragedy that hit us way too early on in life.

She had been on her way to pick up the twins from school, seven years ago, when a driver under the influence of alcohol had rammed his car into hers, killing her on spot. She had never even got the chance to fight for her life.

No, it was all over, from the very first second itself.

Billy had been devastated. The twins were inconsolable, blaming themselves for this tragedy. And Jake…. he was eight.

He needed his mother.

He had cried for his mother for weeks, begging God to return her back to him, refusing to eat, sleep or play, the impact too severe on his young mind.

I had been ten at the time, mature enough to understand that aunt Sarah would never come back to us, yet immature enough to fully claim to know how this would affect the Black's as a family.

For it certainly had, needless to mention.

Rachel and Rebecca had skipped town as soon as they had their diploma in hand, their mother's memory too strongly attached to this place, something they found hindered their ability to accept her death and move on. Billy had lost the capability to walk, his diabetes taking a turn for the worse- and Jake, my Jake, he had never been the same.

Jacob Black, while Sarah had been alive, had been slightly moody- a lot more stubborn- and heavily demanding, his wish being everyone's command. But the Jacob that was left in the aftermath, he was quiet, contemplative and accommodating.

How else would he have grown up to be the person who looked after his disabled father, did all the chores of the house without one complaint leaving his mouth, and yet offered you a grin every time you looked up at him?

He was brave. Braver that I could have ever imagined him to be.

Billy was a shell of the man he had once been, all the burden of keeping the house standing on Jake's vulnerable shoulders.

My poor Jake.

He had so many responsibilities on his head- at this young an age, and yet I had not once seen him crib or complain.

He had accepted it.

He was so used to it.

It was nothing more than a habit for him.

"Bella,"

I jerked back to reality, Jake's big hands coming ahead to cup my cheeks lovingly.

"Are you alright? You seem lost?"

I shrugged at him, the concern in his eyes too prevalent to be missed.

"I was just thinking about Sarah…"

"Oh." His voice was a mere whisper, a sigh leaving his lips. "What about mom?"

I forced a small smile onto my face. "Do you…. maybe…I could make…" I paused, gathering my thoughts together. "Do you want me to make Sarah's special peanut butter cookies for you? I still have the recipe. In fact, I have saved it on my phone; so often that I used to make it at one point of time." I chuckled humorlessly.

Jake had once loved those cookies- munching on them like the world was about to end and this was his last meal ever, but unfortunately, neither he or Billy were any good in the kitchen, relying on someone else to make it for them. Earlier, I had made it a habit of making them at least once in two weeks, but after we had drifted apart….

It had been years now since I had walked into that kitchen and made those cookies for Jake- observing that wide, satisfied grin as it crossed his face; blinded by my craze to belong to the mature crowd.

"You would really do that for me?" his eyes were wide in disbelief.

"You know I would!"

Of course, I would, Jake.

And you know that.

Or maybe, he really didn't know that.

I hadn't exactly been the definition of a good friend in these last few years.

I had deserted him, being one more person after his mother and sisters to leave him behind.

"Great then." Jake let out a chuckle, waving his hand in air. "What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

I laughed at his enthusiasm. "What about the movie? Don't you want to see that?"

Not that I really wanted to see a movie.

No, spending quality time with Jake was any day more preferable, and even more if it brought back memories of those good times that we had spent together as the best of friends in this whole wide world.

That had been…something, indeed.

"Eh." He waved me off, a grin on his face. "Food over movie, any day! You can't even compare the two. It is just not a possibility!"

"I will take your word on that." I laughed, shaking my head at his antics.

He was adorable.

How was it that I had just come to rediscover this fact?

"So?"

He looked like that cute puppy who kept jumping at his place, eyeing the piece of treat that lay in front of him- and as you already know, it is just not possible to say no to that puppy. It is a crime!

"Okay. Lead the way."

He winked at me- making me blush once again- what was wrong with me? – as we walked towards the kitchen.

"Hey," I abruptly spoke up, turning to look at him, an eyebrow raised, my tone as playful as could be. "I am not doing everything on my own. You are helping me out."

"Fine." He rolled his eyes at me. "You bake, I clean."

"And we have a deal."

I offered my hand ahead to shake his, the sparks of familiarity radiant between us.

So many times, before, had I walked this very path, my entire childhood spent in this house, it seemed; but still, the joy and comfort of coming back home in this moment was irreplaceable and simply unquestionable.

I was home.