Charlie's POV

Parked outside a KFC, where I plan on picking up a bucket of fried chicken for dinner, I sit with my phone pressed to my ear.

Normally I'd go home and cook. However, I don't feel like preparing food tonight.

I'm too exhausted from a crazy day of being Chief of Police to think about cooking. Half of my day was spent dealing with a very strange elderly man who not only escaped from the old folks' home, but also stole a golf cart and led me on the slowest car chase ever. When I finally pulled him over, I learned he had a live penguin with him. How he got it and why he decided to go on a joy ride to First Beach with it, I will never know.

Oh, the paperwork I had to fill out. It was all very odd.

I have no idea what's going on with the elderly people in this small community, but it's concerning. Each day I seem to be dealing with one crazy senior citizen. It's been going on for a week now and I have no idea how to solve this problem. But I can't worry about that right now. No, right now I'm wondering where my daughter is and hoping she will pick up the phone.

The ringing stops and goes to voicemail.

"Where can this kid be?" I wonder aloud to myself.

I end the call and look at the time. It's a quarter till 7 pm, Bella should be home from the library by now. Yet, she's not picking up the phone.

A worried feeling starts in the pit of my stomach and spreads throughout my body. I sure as hell hope she listened to me and didn't invite her boyfriend back to the house. Hopefully she has more sense than that. Maybe she's just doing homework and didn't hear me calling six times in a row.

"Yeah, that's probably it." I say out loud to myself.

I sigh. Raising a teenager alone is stressful at times. There's no one home when she gets out of school, which I don't like.

I look out the window at the entrance to KFC. Maybe I should just go in and order our food before it gets too late. The only problem is I have no idea what kind of sides Bella is in the mood for. If only she would pick up the phone, I could ask her.

Trying to reach this kid, I punch in my home phone number once more. The phone rings.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And goes to voicemail…again.

Not feeling so happy and really considering buying her a cell phone so I can get a hold of her more easily, I stay on the line. Watching people walk out of the restaurant I continue to listen to the greeting I have on the recording, preparing to leave a message that I hope she gets. But before it reaches the end and I have a chance to leave a message, a miracle happens. I hear the receiver pick up and then some fumbling.

"Hello?" Bella's voice brakes threw. She sounds out of breath.

"Bella," I say, relieved to hear the sound of her voice. "Where have you been, kiddo? I've been trying to call you."

"I'm sorry. I was in the treehouse and didn't hear the phone." She sounds like she's gasping for air now.

"You sound winded. Are you okay?" I wonder.

"Yes. I'm fine."

I hear the sound of plastic being crunched, maybe she's grabbing a water bottle. Now I hear her drinking something - well more like clinging it down. Which confirms my guesses about the water bottle.

Though she says she's fine she doesn't sound like it. In fact, she sounds like a person that needs an oxygen mask. What could she have been doing in her treehouse that would make her sound this way?

"What have you been doing?" I ask casually.

"We finished our homework. Then we decided to play Twister and got so caught up with it that neither of us heard the phone until the last minute. Sorry." She explains, catching her breath now.

"We?" I ask. "Is Angelina there?"

"No. But Edward is." Bella quickly says. "He didn't come into the house since you're not home, just as you said. We've been hanging out in my treehouse."

"Wonderful." The word comes out of my mouth sarcastically.

I told her there's no boys allowed in the house when I'm not home. She listened to that but also found a loophole. She invited her boyfriend into her tree house where they have been alone doing who knows what for who the hell knows. That's just great.

Them being alone worries me. They are young and can easily get into trouble. The kind of trouble that lasts eighteen plus years and requires a few thousand diapers for the first couple of years. Two young teenagers are not ready for that kind of responsibility.

"You kids have been alone in the closed treehouse for how long?" My words come out less as a question and more as an accusation. Though I don't mean for it to sound that way.

"Dad, relax. We've just been doing homework and playing Twister." Bella says honestly.

"Homework. Right." I'm not too convinced by this.

"We did. We finished all of our assignments and reading too." She says, sounding very proud.

I was a teenager once. I remember going over to my girlfriend's house after school when her parents weren't home and fooling around. Even back then we called it "doing homework" if anyone asked what we were up to. Though adding a name of a game to this scenario is new.

Not wanting to think or even consider that "playing Twister" might be some kind of code word for making out, I exhale.

Realization hits me like a ton of bricks. My little girl is not so little anymore. She's growing up a lot faster than I could have imagined. There are things that I can do for my own sanity, like denying certain things, such as catching her "doing yoga" yesterday. That worked out for both of us then. But to play the blind eye now would be neglectful.

My fatherly instincts tell me to advise her not to be intimate with her boyfriend at least till she is thirty, if that's what she is doing. I cringe at the thought of her, the boy, and intimacy. How I wish she wouldn't do that until she's much, much older, but teenagers do. Unfortunately.

With every fiber in my body, I badly want to talk to her about the importance of not giving herself to the boy. But I know doing so wouldn't be wise. It would have the opposite effect than I want. She might even get pregnant; I cringe at that.

"Bella, please tell me you and the boy are being responsible." I emphasize the last word.

"What?" Bella sounds very stunned.

"Playing twister," I begin, feeling cool like I'm speaking in some kind of hip code. "Make sure you guys are being safe."

"Being safe?" Bella wonders. She sounds confused. "What are you talking about? It's a game."

Uncomfortably, I clear my throat. "No, Bells, it's not a game."

"Twister is definitely a game." She says, sounding bewildered. "I don't think we are talking about the same thing."

"Maybe not." I allow it. "I'm talking about not being safe. It can result in a lifetime commitment. You and your boyfriend are too young for that."

"Too young for what exactly?" Bella says each word very slowly.

"Using protection." I feel my face heating up. "Condoms. I mean." I shut my eyes tight and take a deep breath. "Always do that. Use them even if he doesn't want to. Otherwise, don't play Twister."

"Dad!" Bella shrieks in horror.

Immediately I ask her what's wrong and if she's okay. In the background, far away from Bella, I hear the kid ask her the same thing. He sounds deeply concerned for her. In a way, I feel better that he's there with her. I get the six sense that he won't let anything bad happen to her.

"Edward, I'm fine. I'll be outside in a minute." She reassures him and to me she says. "Really, Dad, we've been doing exactly what I've told you and nothing more. How could you even think that? Why?"

I wipe my hand down my face. By the tone of her voice, I can tell she's being honest. Now I feel bad, the last thing I want is for her to think I don't trust her. I do. Though I don't trust the boy when they are alone, I don't even know him. I only met him yesterday for a quick minute at the market.

"I believe you. I trust you." I say, truthfully. I'm so relieved they weren't doing what I thought.

"Thank you." She says with a hard edge.

A thought creeps into my mind. Before the opportunity is lost, decide to take it.

"Anyway," I say, changing the subject. "I'm outside KFC about to pick up dinner. Would -"

"Sounds good. I'd like coleslaw and corn on the cob please." Bella interrupts me, providing the sides she wants before I have the chance to ask.

I'm stunned she told me what she wants without being prompt. Though actually I wasn't even going to ask her that question right at that minute. But wow. Am I really that predictable?

"Okay." I say and quickly add. "Would Edward want to stay a little longer and have dinner with us?"

I figure now's the perfect time to get to know what kind of kid he is. Get to know him a little better since he's a part of Bella's life.

"Hold on. He went back to the tree house. I'll go ask him." Bella answers in an excited rush.

"Alright. I'll wait and if he wants to have dinner with us, ask him what sides he'd like to eat."

"I will." She giggles in excitement.

The sound of her teenage girl giggling fades away as I hear the sound of the phone dropping lightly to the counter, along with the sound of running feet. I'm sure her happiness is less about fried chicken for dinner and more about the thought of the boy staying longer. I'm sure she's not ready for him to go home just yet.

With my hand on the door handle, about to exit the cruiser, I chuckle at her enthusiasm. This new milestone of her having a boyfriend is adorable in a way to witness. But at the same time, it's a bit terrifying.

I can't deny that.

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