We spent a warm, hazy afternoon in Jacob's garage. He was working on the engine of his dad's old lawnmower. I couldn't help with that (besides the fact I genuinely couldn't help with that), I had too much paperwork to stew over. Dozens of sheets were organized meticulously on the floor around me. Certificates and letters of recommendation were kept pristine amidst the grime in clear plastic wallets. One of the forms in hand bore the name University of Washington which at this point, I wasn't sure if I'd be filling out at all.
"You thought of a major yet?" Jake asked. It wasn't the first time I'd gotten that question but it was the first time he'd asked. Anyone else and I might have screamed.
"I was thinking about journalism," I told him and his actions paused.
"But you don't even write for the school paper."
I shot him a look. "Thanks, I'll be sure to put that at the top."
"I didn't mean it like that!" he chuckled. "It's just, you've never shown any interest in journalism."
"Well, I'd like to major in English Lit but I can't do anything with that."
He continued fine-tuning a part of the engine - I wanted to say the carburetor but I wasn't sure lawnmowers even had carburetors - and then suggested, "You could teach."
"I don't want to teach, I want to read!" I whined like a petulant child. He laughed at me.
"Well, then how 'bout librarianism?"
I raised an eyebrow at him.
"That's a word!"
I laughed. No matter what was going on, Jacob could lure laughter out of me. Any day. And every now and then the sun would break through the clouds and land on me. I savored the feeling of warmth soaking into my skin. We're like leaves, my mom used to tell me. Only we don't turn the light into food, we turn it into happiness. For a moment, my stress over the applications abated. I was somewhere between dawn and the sunrise. My future wasn't certain but I could sense it was bright and from here, I wasn't in a terrible rush to get to it. This moment was perfect.
Then Jacob brought me back to my other reality.
"What's everyone else got planned?" he managed to sound casual.
"Well, Jess is valedictorian and president of the school council so I think she's gonna major is world domination. Angela's looking into marine biology and Mike wants to study social sciences which his dad just doesn't get. Tyler already got a football scholarship at Pacific. And Eric wants to do journalism."
"So that's where you got the idea," he poked.
"Shut up, library boy."
We were quiet for a comfortable beat and then;
"And the Cullens?" he asked, then quickly added, "Sam's wondering. We're all hoping they leave town."
I honestly had no idea where the Cullens would go after graduation. For all I knew, Edward would be repeating another year as a high school freshman when he reached the next town. But something held me back from telling Jake that, so I just said, "I don't know but I'm sure it'll be somewhere expensive."
Jacob psht-ed at that and worked ever more diligently on the mower. He was fixing it because Billy couldn't afford a new one.
I didn't say anything when I walked through the door. I waited to see if someone would call my name first. No one did.
"Dad?"
I walked through to the living room to find it dark and empty. A little red light blinked on the side cabinet and I sighed, then went over to it.
"Hey, Bells. It's me," Charlie's voice played on the machine. "I'm gonna be working late tonight so you go ahead and have dinner without me. If you need money, there's some in the jar. I'll try to be home before you go to bed."
The machine beeped to signal the end of the message. He sounded tired. The situation in Seattle was getting worse. By now, at least two missing persons reports were filed every day from within the city and the surrounding area. Charlie had known some of those cases would find their way onto his desk sooner or later. And now, over the past six nights, he'd only made it home in time to see me twice.
I headed to the kitchen and started raiding the cupboards. I knew exactly what to make for dinner: mac 'n' cheese with cut up pieces of hot dogs. It wasn't exactly my most refined specialty but it was heartening and one of Charlie's favorites for a bad day. I switched the radio on and turned the volume up.
Ordinarily, I enjoyed music as a private affair but the chattering in between tracks made the house less empty. This was how I prepared most meals now, with a soundtrack. Music was well and truly back in my life. I hadn't played Clair de lune yet but it often got stuck in my head. I would get to it.
As the food baked, I busied myself with second guessing my earlier efforts with the forms until the timer buzzed. I did a quick taste test and nearly burnt my tongue. Something in the seasoning wasn't quite right but outside it was starting to drizzle and I wanted to get there before the downpour really kicked in. I shoveled the pasta into Tupperware boxes and fished out an old grocery bag, then carried it out to my truck.
The rain was torrential by the time I reached the station and I made a mad dash for the door. I made my way through, shaking droplets from my hair as officers greeted me, and soon arrived at his desk.
"Bella?" Charlie was instantly worried. "What's wrong?"
"Probably..." I held up the grocery bag. "Not enough salt."
We talked over dinner as if there weren't Missing Person posters scattered all around us. I asked if he was planning any fishing trips with Harry now that the weather was improving (slowly). Next weekend, he told me. He asked me how school and my college applications were going. I lied and said everything was going great. I knew I should mind my own business, but I reached for one of the posters with a twinge of familiarity.
"Do I know him?"
Charlie put down his fork. "You remember the Biers family across from the old bowling alley?"
"There was a bowling alley?"
He chuckled. "Yeah, uh... That actually was a long time ago. You used to play with their youngest, Lily."
I felt guilty but I could only vaguely recall. So many of my earliest memories of Forks had been abandoned along with the town. I nodded anyway to let him know to go on.
"Well, Riley here is her older brother and he's been missing for about..." he had to check the little flip calendar on his desk. He was losing track of the days. "Eight weeks now. And his parents are beside themselves."
He looked old beyond his years in that moment. He was tired of giving people bad news. He wanted to go fishing. But Charlie's problem was he knew bad things were happening, whether he could see them or not. And I knew he could never just go fishing until he felt he'd done his part. In the awkward lull that followed, I wondered how he'd cope once he retired.
"You know, we used to have a movie theatre," Charlie offered to break the silence. "Just the one screen but still pretty good. And the laundromat down on Hiller's Street used to be a karaoke bar."
"And they closed it down?" I asked in mock horror.
"Yep. And about a week later your mother left me."
He was joking. Charlie had a sense of humor but he never actively made jokes. I burst out laughing, stunned.
"You know, she's actually a lot better now."
"Really? Does she still sing Delta Dawn?"
I faltered then, uncomfortable. I remembered all the old photos of my mother on display when I arrived. Photos that had soon disappeared. Charlie was still in love with Renee. It was painful to see him harboring those feelings after so many years, after such rejection.
"Religiously," I answered him flatly.
Then we carried on eating in silence.
I left the station alone. It was dark, but not so late that Charlie could finish working. And it wasn't so late that he should worry so much about me getting home by myself. But I did what I could to reassure him. I tucked my latest can of pepper spray into my coat pocket (I "lost" the old one giving it to Jessica, to apologize for that night with the bikers) and carefully made my way down the steps. The rain had stopped but the ground was glistening wet. Street lights shattered on the asphalt into a sparkling display of yellows and whites. There two moons; one in the sky and one in a puddle at my feet. And among those beautiful things was Edward, standing next to his car.
I stopped dead and stared. Then took a step forward.
"My dad's inside," I warned him.
"I know," he said. "I hoped that might make you more comfortable."
In the past five weeks, we'd spoken only a handful of times. Bare minimum exchanges required to get through biology and English class without failing. Sometimes he regarded me with such distance in his eyes that it was like we were total strangers.
"What do you want?" I asked stiffly.
He was leaning against the Volvo with hands in his pockets and one ankle crossed over the other, as if completely at ease. But the set of his jaw was impossibly tense. And I think he'd put his hands in his pockets to hide a pair of fists.
"Alice had a vision of Victoria," he told me. "She's heading back to Forks."
That didn't come as a huge surprise. I had almost reached a point where it barely phased me at all. Oh, a vampire's trying to kill me? Must be Tuesday.
"Alice could've told me herself, why didn't she?"
"Because I wanted to talk to you."
I didn't have any kind of snappy retort. All I came out with was, "Oh?" and then inwardly cringed.
"I owe you an apology," he began. "For everything I've put you through. I honestly thought I was protecting you by leaving. And I want you to know, I didn't know Victoria was here. I thought she'd come after me. I tried tracking her," he took an unnecessary breath to compose himself. "I guess I'm not as skilled a tracker as some."
"Okay," I curtly. "I believe you. Victoria's given the wolves the slip a bunch of times. She knows what she's doing."
"I'm not just apologizing for that," Edward cut in.
"So, what then?" I snapped, losing my patience. How much more did he want me to suffer?
His eyes held the same haunted quality as that first day he came back. "I'm sorry for leaving you. It was the worst decision of my life."
My cheeks burned. He must have seen it by now - because everyone must have been thinking about it, "Oh, Edward's back? Bella was really messed up over him" - the state I'd been in. I wasn't ashamed. I'd known real love and I'd been hurt. I'd decided I was no more ashamed of that than I was over my constant scrapes and bruises from falling over. But embarrassed? Yes. Embarrassed, I could feel.
"Well, I'm getting over it," I straighten up a little taller. "Jake's been really good to me."
His gaze fell to the ground. It looked like I might have actually hit a nerve. I fought off a twinge of remorse.
"So... Yeah. It's all fine. You don't have to feel guilty -"
"It's not guilt I feel, it's love."
My heart literally stopped. No, really. It hurt worse than I thought it should and I focused on suppressing a yelp. I could not have just heard that and I needed a response but I couldn't think of one and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole but he was still talking.
"I know I caused you pain. I'll never find words to express how deeply I regret that. But keeping you safe is the most important thing in the world to me, Bella. I honestly thought I was doing the right thing. I was wrong, I know that. But I don't feel guilty for trying.
"Leaving you was the worst mistake I ever made because I'm in love with you," he used that word again. "And now I don't think you'll ever forgive me."
Forgive. Regret. Important. Lo... These were all concepts that didn't exist between us anymore. Why was he doing this? I felt the need to double over and I'll never know what kept me standing straight. My head was spinning. I closed my eyes. This wasn't real.
"I won't insult you by asking your forgiveness. But I'm a masochist enough to hope," he finished and I opened my eyes to see his bitter smile.
He'd shut up now, apparently, at long last and far too late. I searched his face and his body language but he gave nothing away, no indication of his motive or what he hoped to achieve. I said the only thing my mind could think:
"You said you didn't love me."
"I lied."
I blinked. And the world was different.
My memories twisted into a new shape; those last words in the forest changed meaning. Everything over the past six months, every nightmare, every night waking up screaming, that hole in my chest, that pain, was all a lie? My heart was ripped out... over a lie?
I walked, numb, over to my truck, climbed in and drove off.
