Chapter 6

kinda rushed through this chapter but as always, hope you enjoy :)

Billy decided not to question why his teenage son lay on the floor next to the couch that held the little sleeping form of the pale daughter of his friend. As long as they weren't on top of each other, he decided to simply count his blessings. "Name them one by one," he hummed, rolling into the kitchen to roast his coffee beans and go along with his day.

...

Bella opened her eyes on Saturday morning to the sound of bacon sizzling, and immediately detected coffee fumes wafting into the living room from the direction of the kitchen. She was about to fall back asleep when her mind wandered to wondering if Jacob was still beside her or if he had taken her suggestion and gone back to his room once she fell asleep. Curious, she rolled over to find out.

There he was, his hair splayed out over the carpet, limbs sprawled in every direction. A boyish smile curved up the tips of his mouth, a small dimple forming in the indent of his chin. His long dark eyelashes tickled the very top of his cheeks and he lay with his hands clutched over his chest. The giraffe lay alone several feet away; its patterned neck slumped over forlornly.

Captivated by his silent beauty, Bella leaned over the edge of the couch to scrutinize him more closely. As she did so, a loose spring poked her sharply in the side, her whole body flinching from the jab. She felt herself tipping, and scrambled to regain balance.

Just as the couch creaked in a loud whine, Jacob's eyelids shot open, his brown pupils staring hers right in the face.

He blinked once.

Startled, Bella couldn't keep herself from toppling over.

She landed with a heavy thud next to his right arm. She could hear him chuckling softly with his throaty morning voice as she groaned, dizzily rubbing a tender patch on her forehead. "Oww."

"Serves you right, Ms Stalker. Do you know how creepy it was to wake up to your nose in my face?"

Bella blushed. "I didn't… I wasn't…" She felt herself grow hotter with embarrassment as he waited for her explanation, and when she failed to produce an excuse, he laughed and jumped to his feet, offering his hand. "C'mon. Breakfast."

"I can help myself up, you know," she insisted reproachfully, clambering up with an immense lack of precision.

He laughed again. "You sure do fall down a lot though. Be more careful or you'll break those pretty little ankles of yours."

Pretty little ankles? Bella kept thinking as she chewed her toast at the kitchen table. She could tell he was joking, but she couldn't help overcontemplating his words. Jacob thought she had pretty little ankles? Were ankles even supposed to be considered attractive these days?

Bella stuck her foot out from under the side of the table and observed it. They looked normal to her. Maybe even a little chunky. Certainly not dainty, and there was a tiny bruise forming from yesterday's escapades.

Jacob bounced into the kitchen from the hall, unnaturally cheerful considering the amount of sleep he had likely gotten. He stalked to the refrigerator and opened it, grabbing a light blue carton and spinning around the table with it in his arms.

"Oh skim milk," he sighed. "I'm so grateful for you. We should buy more, Dad. Stock up."

Billy raised an eyebrow. "You hate milk, Jake. I've been trying to get you to drink it for over ten years."

"Not anymore. Actually I think everyone would benefit from more skim milk in their lives. Hey, that should be the topic of my next essay!" Jacob spread his hands through the air in a long line, envisioning the future title. He winked at Bella. She stared down at her bowl of food, wishing she could dematerialize.

Billy didn't answer his son's zealous proclamations and left, clearly used to the chattiness.

Jacob plopped down in a chair beside her and reached for the scrambled eggs.

"'Sup, Bells," he said, shoveling spoonfuls onto his plate.

"Good morning," she mumbled through the curtain of her hair.

He popped a piece of bread into his mouth and chewed. "Wanna go test the bikes again today?"

"I'm kinda tired. Do you mind if I go home?"

His face fell, clearly disappointed. But: "If you want, I won't stop you."

Actually, she reconsidered, studying his fallen countenance. After all, why shouldn't she stay?

"Just to freshen up and cook something for Charlie," she clarified. "I can come straight back."

A smile returned to his face. Then "Did you even brush your teeth last night?"

"Okay, listen!" she started. "I had no toothbrush!"

Jake shook his head in mock disappointment until she puffed a breath in his direction. He fanned it away from his face, yelping. Bella couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh, by the way," he said absentmindedly after a while, "I got you this." And he handed her a small object.

Bella examined the item in her palm. The design resembled a crochet dolly, except it seemed to be made of wicker strands woven around each other to create some sort of halo with a wooden ring to hang it up at the top. In the middle of the circle above a resting feather lay an intricate pattern of thread and tiny vines. Miniature corals, beads, and shells marched down several lines of knotted yarn that hung from the bottom.

Like a miniature crown of thorns, Bella thought.

"It's a dream catcher," he explained, picking it up again. "Hang it above your bed and it'll shoo all your nightmares away."

Bella watched, captivated, as it swung from his fingers, glimmering in the shaft of sunlight streaming through the window. She hardly knew how to thank him.

He flung it to her across the table, and Bella caught it right before it landed in the platter of bacon.

...

When she arrived at the Swan residence, Charlie was nowhere to be found. There was a message scribbled on the notepad beside the telephone, however, reading "I'll be back in the evening."

Fair enough. Bella left yellow sticks of spaghetti bubbling on the stove as she took a shower, placing the dream catcher on her bedside table. She would whip up some tomato sauce and leave it for Charlie to find when he came back, in case whatever Jacob had planned for the day took too long to come back and cook.

Bella was back in the Blacks garage at 1 pm sharp.

"I haven't seen you in so long," Jacob smirked, opening the door.

"Alright Jake, enough with the corny greetings," she told him, laughing in spite of herself. She threw her jacket on a stack of tools. "What're we doing today?"

Jacob nodded toward the motorcycles, which Bella noticed were back in their original positions by his bench.

"Did they break?" she asked, confused.

"Yours got a little scratched," he replied. "Look,"

There was a long white mark about the size of Bella's forearm running down the side of the gleaming black shell.

"Dang," she whistled. "How'd that happen?"

"I forgot to varnish it," he said, and Bella watched as he got ready to spray dark lacquer over the indent. "I'm really sorry. We can repaint it, if you want."

Why in the world was he apologizing?

"No, I like it," she decided, and he put the can down. "It looks cool."

"With a name like Bessie, looking cool is the best it can get," Jacob chuckled.

"Did I hear Bessie?" Bella heard someone intone. Ah. There was Quil, strolling into the garage with Seth shuffling behind him. At the sight of Bella's motorcycle he jolted to a stop in the middle of his confident stride and clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes bulging. "My baby!" he finally gasped. "She's ready!"

"My baby," Bella corrected him, no other way to break the news.

"You rode the bike?" Quil regarded her judgmentally.

"It's mine, actually," Bella admitted, hoping she didn't sound too haughty.

Jacob grinned at Quil's dismayed expression.

"I would've called it a better name," Quil sulked, running his fingertips over the prized possession.

"Yeah well you didn't have a chance to, did you?" Jacob chucked a squashed Coke can at him, nailing him in the forehead.

"Ow!" he grumbled. "I should've worn my cap."

Seth tripped over to stand by Bella and her bike, gazing wondrously up at her with big brown eyes. "It's awesome," he breathed. "I never thought Jake would finish them."

"Jake sure seems to have a lot more energy around Bella," Quil noisily whispered to Seth. "Good thing he's not seven years old anymore—he would've been on the ground worshiping her right now."

Bella glanced at Jacob. He was vigorously scrubbing the front headlight of his bike.

"Right, Jake?" Quil nudged him. "You're not about to bow down right now, are you?"

"Whatever," Jacob muttered.

Quil dug into the paper bag full of snacks that were always in the garage and crammed a couple Oreos into his mouth.

"He had a massive crush on you when he was seven," he informed Bella, black crumbs spraying out of the corners of his mouth. "Like, the dude would cry if you didn't come over to play each day. Probably still does that. I wouldn't be surprised."

"That's enough, Quill," Jacob cut in briskly. "You aren't even old enough to remember that."

"Hey, I wasn't done!" Quill protested in a shrill voice. "Wait til she knows about-"

"Yes, you are. Bye, Quil."

Seth waved after the door slammed and soon he and Jacob were engrossed in a conversation about tires.

Stunned, Bella sat down on the very edge of the bench, unsure where to even begin thinking. She didn't want to remember anything Quil had just said, yet his words kept trampling through her brain like a horse galloping through the underbrush.

These past few weeks had been blissfully innocent, without a hint of any other intentions and the inconceivable thought of anyone previously entertaining feelings or, horror of all horrors, possibly developing new feelings, had never, never crossed her mind.

Never.

She enjoyed this world of friendship too much to reconsider the slightest idea of romance, still traumatized by the experience of 'love' Edward left her with.

Staring at her shoes, her heart began to pound harder and faster with each breath she took, and she found herself mentally thanking Seth for being between them. She couldn't let Jacob see all the questions she knew were obvious on her face. He had a crush on her? Though at least Quil was talking about years ago, right?

But the news along with his willingness to practically steal the moon for her, then his reaction to the darn milk this morning made for an unfortunately solid base to assume anything off of. Was she just not used to healthy, platonic bonds, or...was it something more?

The thought sickened her.

But he was seven at the time- those feelings were long gone. Probably. They didn't matter anymore, right?

Right?

Bella didn't know anymore.

She certainly didn't want to know if it did matter.

And then the two biggest questions of all.

What was Quil about to say before Jacob cut him off? Why did her best friend not want her to hear, whatever it was?

At that moment she wanted nothing more than to get up and run, away from the garage, away from Jacob.

Bella stood, her head spinning from the intensity of her thoughts. "I gotta go," she mumbled.

Jacob looked up immediately. "Wait."

Bella hardly heard what he asked her, but found herself agreeing anyway. Anything to just get away. "Sure, ten-thirty sounds fine, yeah. Bye."

well well well the plot thickens
interesting seeing how jacob's actually barely shown bella anything to back up any assumptions but she's still obsessing over it hm?
hoping you love the story!