A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed Edward's POV!? Let me know if you'd like to hear more from him in future chapters :-)

This chapter continues right where chapter 5 left off with Bella kicking the boy out of the room so she can talk to Angela.

Chapter 7

Bella POV

"Wait, wait, wait ..." I stopped Angela's story before she can barely begin. "You didn't tell your parents we were going out?"

This really shouldn't be a surprise, and in theory, I can't blame her for not telling them. But after being found out several times in the past, she's always come up with some sort of cover story in case anything got back to her parents.

Which, as one of the town's pastors and one of our rival high school guidance counselors, it seems like almost everything got back to Mr. Weber at some point.

"I might have mentioned that me, you, and Jess might step out, but that's it." Her dark, nearly black eyes pierce through me with a slight bit of hatred. "But I obviously didn't go into details of where, since I was supposed to spend the night at her house, remember?"

Even though I know that hatred isn't targeted at me, I still cringe. Oh, how different that night should have went if Jess hadn't acted like a total bitch at the party.

"Right."

"Regardless, there was no explaining that dress away." Angela continues on with her story, with me hanging on to every detail.

By the time she's done, I've pieced together what appears to be the rest of her weekend after leaving the party with Peter. It really does sound like she went through hell.

She doesn't go into details of what they did, but they drove to the park near her house and hung out there for a couple of hours. By hanging out, I know that meant they argued, fought, 'made up', hooked up, and argued some more.

She claims she was just trying to buy time for herself to wait until her parents left for church, but she miscalculated and got caught sneaking back into her room.

That's when all hell broke loose.

Her dad called her a whore, and her mom said some choice words, too. Fed up, Angela threw her own words back at them and a fight ensued.

"Why didn't you call me?" I ask, sadly. There's nothing I could have done regarding her fight with her parents, but I could have been there for her after at least.

"My dad took my phone," she answers lamely.

"I thought you said your mom did?"

She shrugs. "What difference does it make?"

In the grand scheme of things, I guess it doesn't matter.

But even without her phone, she could just as easily have walked to any of her neighbors' houses or any store around town and asked to make a call. I would have picked up, too. Since I don't get many phone calls, I would have never ignored one coming in at like 6 in the morning.

"So, how did you get to Peter's?" I ask, still confused on that part. If she couldn't call me, how did she get a hold of him?

"I walked."

My eyebrows pinch together at that, confused at how the timeline would work.

"So, why didn't you call me when you got to Peters?" I press her. "You could have come over then. I would have come and got you."

And despite their fight, I know that Jess would have been there helping her, too.

Angela shrugs. "I guess I didn't think about it."

Something seems off, but it's also clear that something happened.

I believe her when she says she got into a fight with her parents. I also know she's not lying that her dad said those things to her. I've been on the phone before when he didn't realize anyone could hear him, and I would die if my dad ever talked to me like that.

Her parents didn't get her that phone, so I'm not sure what gives them the right to take it, and I still don't get how she managed to make her way to Peters since she would have, had to walk past mine and Jessica's neighborhoods first.

But I guess that's minor details now.

With every word she spoke of her story, I could tell that Angela was close to falling apart.

We didn't go to middle school together, so we only became close freshman year. But in those two-plus years, she's been through hell and back in the hands of parents this community adores. And boyfriends that don't even deserve to breathe the same air as her.

Quite frankly, that includes Peter, too.

With no idea what to say to make the situation better and having no words of comfort, I open my arms and pull her into a hug.

She nearly collapses in my arms, sobbing. Her five-foot eight-inch frame somehow seeming and feeling small curled up against my five foot three.

I don't know what to say, but I feel bad for her. Honestly, even though a part of me is still annoyed about the way she bailed on Saturday and pulling a disappearing act today, I don't know what I would have done if put in that situation.

So, I can't judge.

My phone buzzes in my back pocket, making both Angela and I jump.

"Shit." I gulp at the screen.

It's my mom.

I have no idea if she's home, but if she is and she beat me there, then I'm in deep shit.

She's a nurse who works these wild and sometimes sporadic full day and night shifts.

So, even though people think I have free rein, it really couldn't be further from the truth. She calls and texts me all the time—like she's getting paid to do it. And I'd barely checked in today.

I answer with a very sheepish, "Hello?"

"Bella!" she shouts into the phone, a panic laced in her tone that I've never heard before.

"Hey, Mom."

"Bella, oh my, God. Where have you been? I've been calling you!"

That's gotta be a lie. My phone has been on me this whole time with no missed calls from her. But there's no way I'm arguing with her when she sounds like this.

"Sorry, Mom, I must not have heard it. I'm ... hanging out with Angela."

There's a pause before I hear her long exhale. "Thank God she's okay. Mrs. Weber called me—"

"Why?" I interrupt. Didn't they kick her out? Now they want to act all worried, like they care about what happens to her?

"What do you mean, why? That's her mother, Bella. She said she hasn't seen or heard from Angela since this weekend. That they got into a fight, and she left and hasn't been back. She's worried sick."

I hum. That's an interesting version of the story I just heard.

"I think there's more to the story, Mom."

"Obviously, I recognize that, Bella. I wasn't born yesterday. Now, put Angela on the phone."

My mom's words must have rung loud through my cell because both Angela and I whip our heads in each other directions, eyes wide and faces screwed up in a grimace.

But I don't hesitate a few seconds later to pass it to Angela.

"Hi, Mrs. Swan," she whispers into the phone. "Yes, ma'am."

I can't hear what my mother is saying—only Angela's responses to her questions. A lot of "yes ma'am" and "I understand" before, she sighs and says, "Thank you, that sounds good. Do you want to talk to Bella?"

I reach my hand out, but Angela shakes her head.

"Okay, I'll tell her to call you when we get home."

We? I mouth, as Angela, hangs up and passes me the phone.

"So, looks like I'm staying at your house for a couple days," she says hesitantly, but I'm already nodding my agreement. I'm glad my mom came up with the plan herself because I was already thinking it. I just wasn't sure how I was going to ask.

Angela has to go home at some point, but until then… over my dead body would she be staying in this apartment with Peter.

"And," Angela clears her throat, searching the room for something. "We have twenty minutes to get home."

Thank you so much for reading and to those who have reviewed! The feedback really means a lot.

~Wendy