It had taken her three weeks to start speaking again.
Charlie was moving slowly around the kitchen, buttering toast while the coffee maker rumbled its slow morning chore.
"Dad?" Bella's voice was weak and rasping from misuse.
Charlie jumped and dropped his toast on the ground. "Bells?" He rushed into the living room to see her sitting up, blinking blearily.
"Hey, hon. You okay?" Charlie knelt by his daughter, reaching for her shoulder but hesitant to touch her, like he was afraid he'd only dreamt her calling for him.
Bella nodded. "Coffee smells good," she croaked.
"You want some coffee? Okay, sure." Charlie nodded. "Here, drink some water first." He turned away from her to grab a glass of water sitting on the coffee table and blinked hard, hoping she couldn't see the emotion in his eyes.
Bella gulped the entire glass of water down.
"Slow down, kid." He let himself pat her back. "You okay?"
Bella looked around the room. She looked at her leg, still in its cast above her knee, elevated on a few pillows. "Dad..."
"Let me make you some breakfast, kid. Then we can talk. Want to watch some tv?"
Bella shook her head rapidly. Her dark hair, in the braid Charlie had carefully knotted, fell over her shoulder.
"Okay. Okay, I'm gonna fix you some coffee. Don't go anywhere," Charlie backed away slowly into the kitchen, as though afraid to let her out of his sight. He grabbed the phone from its cradle and dialed quickly, then moved to pour the girl a cup of coffee. He held the phone between his cheek and his shoulder, breathless.
"Hey, Charlie. Renee's at the gym. Is everything-"
"Hey, Phil. It's Bella, she's talking." Charlie whispered over the phone, shaking as he poured milk into the steaming mug.
"What? That's great, man. Oh, that's great. What'd she say?" Phil's relief was palpable over the phone.
"Just that the coffee smelled good. I'm fixing her some food. Maybe Renee can talk to her when she gets back?" Charlie leaned around the archway and peered at Bella, staring into space, her hands limp in her lap. He took a deep breath.
"Of course. I'll tell her as soon as I see her. Give Bella a hug from us both," Phil sounded a little choked up.
"Will do. Alright." Charlie hung up the phone and took another deep breath.
A little while after Bella started speaking again, Charlie started asking questions. Nonchalantly at first, at mealtimes or while he braided her hair. When she seemed to be getting a little stronger, he sat her down at the kitchen table and told her he knew that there was more to the story with Edward and his family. He begged her to be honest with him; he tried to apply his authoritative cop voice. It was all to no avail. She rarely answered his questions; she flinched as if struck every time he mentioned their names.
He only saw her explode once. He'd threatened to ship her back to Jacksonville to stay with Renee and Phil, and she'd come apart at the seams, screaming and crying that she wouldn't leave. Asking him why he didn't believe her. He relented immediately, and since the investigation with the police in the city of Phoenix was going nowhere, he'd been forced to close his own investigation.
A part of him was satisfied, though, to see that there was a little of that spitfire left in her, that spirit that he adored about his only child.
She'd returned to school four weeks after Spring Break. The ground had begun to thaw; the red alder trees were budding.
Everything had changed, and yet nobody acknowledged it.
Bella had gone from herself. She didn't smile, or speak, except when asked a direct question. She moved slowly through the halls like a wraith, burdened by her full-leg cast and a crutch.
Her friends tried to include her in conversations, but it became a risky endeavor, especially for Jessica, who couldn't help but try to question Bella about what had happened. Bella made herself the talk of the entire school once again, when she went into a catatonic meltdown in the lunchroom at the mention of Edward Cullen. Most of her friends began to ignore her, except for Angela, who dutifully sat next to her friend every day in their Chemistry lab and saved her a seat at the lunch table every day.
Her teachers mostly left her alone, except for Mr. Berty, who loved her (previous) passion for literature and fought to keep her attention during the preparation for her final paper. If she felt any regret for disappointing him, she didn't show it.
A rumor had gone around that the Cullens had tried to kidnap her in Phoenix; their attempt had apparently left Bella so traumatized she tried to throw herself off the hotel balcony from the fourth-floor room they were holding her in.
It was so far from the truth that she wanted to laugh, but she couldn't; the truth was so much worse.
The truth was that Bella had shown Edward how human she was; how inhuman he was. She had proved him right. His very existence threatened the lives of her and everyone she loved. She had, for one brief moment, entertained the mind of a creature so perfect she still wondered if she had dreamed him up; his utter absence, evidenced only by her tortured memories and the scar on her wrist, drove her to the edge of sanity at times.
Edward had seen what proximity to his kind was to Bella: deadly. And rather than choose her- rather than let her be turned by the venom that was already burning through her veins, he'd nearly killed her by sucking the blight out, plus a good fifth of her body's blood volume for good measure.
Edward, too, had proved her right. It never made any sense that he loved her; a part of her, deep within her being, knew this. He was perfect in every capacity; an extraordinary being beyond her comprehension. There was no way she could have kept his attention forever, she knew this; and despite his earlier promises to the contrary, his current absence only made sense.
It was this that tortured Bella, that had broken her spirit so completely. She would die for him, for any member of his family; die with a smile on her lips. Edward did not want her forever the way that she wanted him for eternity. He could have kept her forever, whole and beautiful and perfect like him. Instead, he had left her. Left her human and broken, in a world now bereft of wonder or magic or love.
Bella overheard Charlie talking on the phone late at night, while she lay comatose on the couch. Heard his suspicion, as he refused to drop his investigation around what had truly happened in Phoenix. He called fellow police officers; he called the Phoenix Police Department; he called Renee. He never sounded satisfied with what he heard.
It was a few weeks after finals that Charlie started prodding her.
Dr. Gerandy had removed her cast, and she was now wearing a boot for her leg; she'd started putting around the first floor of the house, doing some light housework. Mostly, she watched cooking shows.
"It's no way to spend the summer before your senior year," Charlie grumbled over his mashed potatoes.
"It's not how I intended to spend my summer," Bella murmured. While she was now able to hold a conversation, she still seemed distant, unplugged.
They chewed in silence for a few moments.
"Talked to Billy today," Charlie started.
Bella hmm'd noncommittally.
"Him and Harry and me are going fishing this weekend."
Bella nodded, chasing a pea around in a circle with her fork.
Charlie cleared his throat. "You know, Harry's daughter is having a hard time, too."
Bella's fork stopped moving for a moment. "Leah?" Her face twisted in effort as she recalled the name.
"Yes. She's been... ah. Well, see, her- her fiance-"
Bella winced; Charlie's voice faltered. He tried again.
"What I'm trying to get at is, maybe you girls can keep each other company. She's your age."
Bella raised an eyebrow at her father. "A playdate?"
Charlie grinned. It had been ages since his daughter had made a joke. "Yep. A playdate."
Bella rolled her eyes. She ate a tiny bite of her pork chop, before tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Is, um. Will Jacob be there?"
Charlie shook his head. "Nope. It'll just be you girls. Unless you-?"
Bella shook her head rapidly. She didn't want Jacob to see her like this.
Charlie mussed her hair. "I guess you could use a little girl time."
Bella shrugged nonchalantly and chewed on the side of her thumb, before nodding. "Okay. I'll come."
Bella didn't have many memories of Leah, but the older girl was still different than she'd remembered.
She was tall and thin, with graceful arms and long, glossy black hair that fell down her back. Her gorgeous, deep-set eyes bored into Bella's, and the pale girl felt pierced by her gaze. She squirmed and fussed in her new blouse, one that Renee had bought before heading back to Florida.
Her playdate had been just that; scheduled by their fathers, the girls, at first, had nothing to say to one another.
After the initial greetings - Sue and Harry hadn't seen Bella since she'd moved back to Forks, and Harry couldn't stop exclaiming how grown up she was - the fathers left for their fishing trip. Sue had taken Seth to a baseball game. The girls found themselves alone in the house. They didn't bother to make small talk. Bella was surprised to find Leah's presence comforting - the girl expected nothing of her.
"So what happened." Leah eventually asked, sounding bored.
"Ahh, what-"
"To your leg."
Bella gasped and almost gagged on her breath. Leah spun and gave her a strange look.
"Sorry... Can't... talk about it."
Leah regarded her with suspicious eyes. "I heard you were kidnapped."
Bella rolled her eyes, catching her breath. "I've heard that one already."
"So what did happen, then?"
Bella shrugged.
Leah got up and crossed to the stereo to turn on some music. Bella gasped, her arms snaking around her middle.
"What?" Leah demanded.
"Um. Could you, turn that off? It makes me feel like I'm dying."
"Wow, I see why they think you're a basket case."
Bella blushed, shame burning in her belly. Leah's face softened. "Sorry. I don't really... I'm sort of a, suffer-in-silence type."
"Me too," Bella replied quickly.
"Doesn't seem like it," Leah muttered. Bella chuckled, a slightly unhinged sound. Leah laughed, too.
"So, what's up with this? You can't listen to music?"
"It was sort of... something we shared. My... Ed- ex? boyfriend..." Bella trailed off lamely.
"Yeah, that's sort of something that, like, every couple connects on."
"Well, I'm glad you're over it, then," Bella retorted. She flinched at her own tone.
"It's called spite, and it sustains me," Leah deadpanned.
Bella nodded.
They'd walked - slowly, at Bella's pace - down to the beach, which the Clearwater house was shockingly close to, Bella noted. Leah carried a backpack of a few cold beers she'd raided from Harry's mini-fridge in the garage and a battery operated boombox.
The air on the beach was fresh and cool and briny. Bella felt exfoliated by the very air, like the salt was scrubbing away some film she hadn't realized had been building up.
"You're looking better."
"Thanks. I don't... get out much."
"That's obvious." She kicked a rock, then sighed. "I guess I'm not much better."
They walked over to a large piece of driftwood. Bella sat down gingerly. She winced, remembering the pain, remembering the screams-her screams- she closed her eyes tight.
Leah was quiet, but she watched Bella's face.
"When it gets too much like that for me, I like to focus really closely on my surroundings," Leah offered nonchalantly.
Bella looked at Leah. "Do you read minds?" she demanded, genuinely suspicious.
Leah laughed, a small sound that reminded Bella of how young she was. She seemed hardened already, beyond her tender 17 years.
"No. I feel like we're in pretty similar situations."
Bella remembered the moment that she realized she was losing him. The denial, the helplessness, the deep sinking sense of worthlessness. She shuddered.
Leah sighed and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her shirt pocket. "You mind?"
Bella shook her head, surprised. She was rarely around cigarettes. Renee had never smoked, and she'd only seen Charlie smoking once, at his own father's funeral.
Leah noticed Bella's interest and wordlessly offered her one.
The pale girl was conflicted. She'd always been cautious - she'd had to be, to balance Renee's often-irresponsible whims.
But her mind returned to the words he'd said as he pried her hands off his shirt, words she had repressed until she only recalled them in nightmares.
"Try not to do anything too... reckless... irresponsible..." he'd looked pained.
Bella felt the familiar excruciating physical blow that always accompanied this memory, but there was a new edge. Looking around this alien setting - a gray beach, the thrumming tide only feet away - that request suddenly felt laughable. And he'd ignored every one of her pleas, while she begged him not to leave. Why did she hold tight to this request of his?
Bella nodded her assent.
Leah lit the cigarette, then held it out to Bella. "How do I..." she blushed, fumbling.
Leah snorted. "Watch me. Put it between your lips and breathe in." She demonstrated, the lit end of the cigarette glowing red while she pulled. She exhaled gray smoke. The smell reminded Bella of her Grandma Swan's house, and the diner in town.
Bella took a small puff off of the cigarette. She coughed out smoke, her eyes watering.
Leah giggled. "It's not for everyone."
Bella shook her head. "Give me a second..." she coughed some more.
Leah was really laughing now, and Bella was laughing too. The sound felt unfamiliar, an alien tone in this alien place.
The girls sat and smoked in silence. It didn't taste like much, Bella thought, except burning. But it felt a little exhilarating to do something that was so totally against the rules she'd always obeyed.
Bella drank her first beer that night on the beach, watching the sunset with Leah. The older girl definitely had more experience drinking than Bella did; it didn't take long for her head to begin to feel pleasantly buzzy.
Leah pressed play on another CD she'd pulled out of her backpack, apparently on a mission to expose Bella to as much music as she could in their limited time together. Bella had been surprised at how soon she became reacclimated to it; it was now only a minor annoyance in the background.
"I've never really had... female friends," Bella confessed.
"Oh, me either." Leah quickly overlapped her. "I'm too-"
"Weird-"
"Quiet-"
"Yeah."
"Exactly."
There was a pause.
"I kind of have one friend at school, but she's also..."
"Weird?"
"Quiet."
Bella shoved away memories of that other girl friend she'd had - a tiny one with a musical laugh. No no no. She felt her face twisting in pain.
"So... what did you used to do? Like, for fun?" Leah leaned back on her forearms nonchalantly.
Bella shrugged. "I'm a big reader..."
"Like what?"
"Classics, mostly." Bella coughed on a memory. "But I've been meaning to hit the bookstore sometime soon..."
"I'll drive you," Leah offered, picking her nails disinterestedly. Bella was shocked. "Thank you," she replied earnestly.
"Don't mention it," Leah said quickly. She opened a second beer, while Bella still nursed her first.
"What about you? Are you into, like... sports or something?" Bella mumbled.
Leah smirked. "I used to be on the track team at school. I quit, but I still like to run." Bella nodded, trying not to admire Leah's long, toned legs. She tried to quell her jealousy. "Doesn't smoking slow you down?"
Leah shrugged. "Goes hand in hand with my other hobby." She loudly slurped her beer in emphasis.
"Hey, do you ever hang out with Jacob?" Bella asked suddenly. She couldn't imagine him condoning her current activities, but it had been so long since she'd seen that gangly boy with the sunshine smile.
Leah snorted. "God, no. I avoid the three stooges as much as possible."
"Three stooges?" Bella sipped her beer.
"He's got two friends. They're almost as annoying as Seth." Leah rolled her eyes and searched in her backpack for something. She produced her pack of cigarettes and offered one to Bella, who accepted, over her better judgements; she also whipped out a vintage-looking camera.
"I have some old film cameras, too," Leah shrugged nonchalantly. "Mostly they were my mom's, from when she was our age."
Bella smiled. "That's amazing. Do you have any photos you've taken?"
Leah rustled in her backpack, producing a small folder filled with prints. "I mail the film in to get developed, but I want to start developing it myself. My school doesn't have a darkroom, though."
Bella set her beer on the ground and started flipping through the prints. The grainy film gave a mystical cast to even ordinary subjects - Sue squeezing orange juice; Harry watching a basketball game; Seth pitching a baseball game. There were several portraits of Billy Black, as well.
"I took those for the council," Leah said flippantly. "My dad's a member."
"I forgot about that," Bella mused. "This is really cool, Leah."
Leah lifted the camera and, before Bella could protest, snapped a picture. "Hey!" Bella's face flushed.
"That's going to be a great one," Leah declared, replacing the lens cap. "I love candids."
Bella groaned.
A skinny beanpole of a kid with a shock of black hair appeared fifty feet down the beach from the treeline.
"LEAH! DINNER!" he bellowed, and turned back towards the house.
Bella made to stand, but Leah patted her back into place. "No rush. Let's finish these beers, at least."
Bella chewed her lip, worried. "Won't we smell like... beer and smoke?"
Leah snorted. "No one will care." She wore a bitter smirk.
