Okay, yes. I understand that retrograde amnesia of this magnitude is highly unlikely. Selective retrograde amnesia that makes Bella forget Edward Cullen ever existed is even less likely. Like I said, folks: I've got a plot point to serve here.

Also, before all you team Edward fanatics freak out on me, I'm not necessarily making this a story about Bella and Jake's happily ever after. I won't give away much more than that, but hang in there. Depressedward may or may not make an appearance in the next several chapters somewhere. Bella may or may not choose to give the self-righteous tard a chance.

Last side note, then I'm done. This chapter is almost 1,100 words, so I'm doing better on the length thing. Told you I'd try!

*I do not own any of these characters or the initial part of this storyline. Stephenie Meyer created some very fun playthings for me, is all.*

Chapter Three: A Hint of Motor Oil

"Well, of course I'm going to try to find Alice. I still can't figure out why no one told me where they were going in the first place," I huffily explained, for the fifteenth time, to Jake. He rolled his eyes and rubbed the back of his head.

"Bells, they kind of left you high and dry. What kind of friends don't even leave a telephone number to contact them by?" This line of conversation was really starting to get on my nerves, but it was one that I brought up around Jake frequently. I had been hanging out with Jake a lot since the accident at school, just clowning around and helping him work on his Rabbit. Well, helping might be too strong a word. I was really just observing while he did all the hard labor.

"Surely it was an oversight. Maybe Carlisle had an emergency at the new hospital that meant they had to leave sooner than they thought," I said, good-friend Bella in full swing. I normally wouldn't make excuses for people, but Alice wouldn't have left me without a way to contact her without a good reason. I mean, I didn't even have a picture of any of them. Surely she'd meant to come back or meant for me to come visit.

Jake just shrugged his shoulders and put down the wrench he'd been using. He took a drag from his soda then slumped onto the beat-up couch with me, draping an arm around my shoulders. "Bells, I'm saying this for a reason. I know you and Alice were good friends. If she wants to keep in touch, none of your contact information has changed," he pointed out, ever the voice of reason. I sighed heavily. I knew he was right, but it kind of hurt that none of them had even bothered to call me. Leaning my head against his chest, I wrapped an arm around his torso and breathed in deeply. My best friend certainly smelled like what home had become these past few weeks – musky, woodsy Jake with a hint of motor oil.

We sat like that for a few minutes – Jake's arm pulling me closer and my eyes fluttering closed. When I was able to push aside the distraction of Jake's warm, comforting body cradling me, I remembered what I'd been intending to ask him.

"Do you want to come see a movie with me this weekend?" I asked, hoping he'd agree. I'd wanted to go see the new one about the Mayan doomsday prophecy, but I couldn't quite make myself go on my own. Something told me that having my best friend with me would ease my fears about watching the end of the world as we know it. And maybe I could use him as a giant shield against the scarier parts of the movie.

"Sure. Did you have one in mind?"

"I was kind of hoping to see '2012'," I conceded, knowing it wasn't really up Jake's alley. Generally, he enjoyed movies with less defined plot lines but many more jokes and gags. Since I'd gone to watch some ridiculous National Lampoon's marathon with him last weekend at his friend's house, surely he could suffer through one movie for me. I put on a pouty face and looked up at him to judge his reaction. It didn't look like Jake had been paying much attention to my suggestion, however.

Jake's eyes were locked to mine. His hand moved up to caress the side of my face, and he leaned in slowly, watching me the whole time. Just when I thought he might go for my lips, he changed course ever so slightly and gently kissed my cheek. When he pulled back, I looked at my best friend wonderingly.

"Did you want to kiss me?" I asked softly.

"Bells, I did kiss you," he rolled his eyes, playful Jake back again.

"No, I mean, kiss me, kiss me," I explained hesitantly. It was the first time I'd seen Jake blush as he sheepishly nodded his head. That was all the encouragement I needed. I folded my legs underneath me and leaned up to Jake's eye level. My lips pressed against his warm, soft mouth and I pulled him toward me. He tasted nice, a mixture of the soda we were sharing and the chocolate candies he'd been munching on. I think chocolate would probably be a new favorite of mine. His arms snaked around my torso, gently rubbing my back while I slowly, hesitantly, let my tongue ghost over his lips and pressed my mouth to his again for a last peck before I pulled back.

It was like this was the first time I'd really looked at Jake. I noticed the way his tousled hair was a shiny raven black that I wanted to curl my fingers into, the way his eyes were expressive in their chocolate depths whenever they looked at me. I realized that Jake was growing up, and fast. His musculature was quickly becoming that of a 25 year-old man instead of a teenage boy. I fought the urge to giggle when I realized that his hands were literally three times the size of mine, and I had grown to love the buildup of grease and Rabbit gunk under his fingernails. His face was still somewhat soft and boyish, but the rest of my Jake had turned into all man, seemingly overnight.

When I noticed that he was nervously looking down at where our hands had joined, I felt a twinge of something deep in my chest. Was he rejecting me? Did he not want me to kiss him? Why was this pseudo-rejection a familiar feeling? "Jake, I'm sorry, I just thought…"

"No, Bells, don't apologize for that. That was – I mean – wow," he stumbled over his words. Jake was pretty cute this way, tongue-tied and nervously rubbing circles on my palms with his thumbs. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad to know that Jake had wanted me to kiss him. The twinge immediately disappeared from my chest.

"Yeah," I grinned. I sheepishly looked down to our joined hands and watched Jake's hand reach up to my chin. He pulled my face back up to look at his, and we shared a smile.

"So, a movie this weekend, huh? Is that a date?" he asked with a smirk.

"Sure, sure," I said, mimicking his habit. He brushed my hair behind my ear, and pulled me to his chest, where I snuggled in under his chin.