A/N: Sorry this took so long but i just got back from holiday! Yay for summer! Anyway, thank you to everyone who is reading, reviewing, and whatnot. I don't own anything you recognise, they belong to Stephanie Meyer, and 'Rebecca' belongs to Daphne Du Maurier. Enjoy!

Supernova

Chapter 4: "I'll Need Heart And You'll Need Courage, We All Need Time." – The Maccabees, Precious Time.

It was late afternoon that I received my first visitor. Diana had, under Dr Cullen's request, set me up in my room with ice and cushions. The cushions were not for comfort, they were to keep my ankle above heart level – apparently she read it from a first aid book that said it helps in reducing the swelling. She was a bit frustrated at having to take the day off from work, but smiled with guilty pleasure when she told me Enid was not happy with the state of the shelving or the fact that she was now going to have to clear it up on her own.

Last night, while I was supposed to be sleeping my trauma off, I heard Diana speaking on the phone to my mother. Even actual bodily harm wasn't enough for her to want to speak with me, but I was grateful that Diana had thought to wait until I was sleeping to make the call.

There wasn't a lot to do other than attempt a start in the large pile of novels Diana had set on the floor by my bed. I think she spent the morning collecting them, and the afternoon doing chores downstairs, but every so often she would come into my room and check that I was ok, bring fresh ice, and another cup of tea – and to inform me that Enid had found a replacement for me (her grandson, Callum, poor bastard). Luckily I could manage the regular trips to the toilet that the caffeine was making more necessary than usual all by myself. That was an awkward situation we both wanted to avoid.

I was flicking through the discoloured pages of 'Rebecca' when I heard the front doorbell ring out. That was one thing I was never going to have when I got my own place – a mind numbingly cheery doorbell. The sound of Leah Clearwater's sharp tones rising above it immediately pushed any grumbling thoughts from my head.

"Leah?!" I yelled downstairs, only a tiny bit apologetic about the volume.

Clearly realising that she would never be able to get away with telling the other girl that I was sleeping Diana invited Leah in. Her footsteps barely made a sound on the stairs but she charged into the bedroom like the one girl powerhouse she was. In one hand there was another bag of ice cubes, in the other she had a giant tub of ice cream.

"Hey there hop-along," she laughed taking in the sight of me still in my pyjamas, foot up in the air.

"Wow, you're chirpy," I raised a curious eyebrow, "does my pain truly bring you that much joy?"

She shrugged. "Well I won't deny it's pretty funny." Then she dumped the ice cream on the bed and with surprising care lifted my foot to replace the bag. "So…" she said, flinging the melted ice onto the floor (Diana was not going to be happy about that). "How long are you going to be trussed up in here for?"

"A few days until the swelling goes, then I can get around on crutches until I can walk again. So probably a week or two."

She lifted the book from my fingers and turned it over. "Any good?"

"Yeah. It's about a girl who falls in love with a man but is haunted by the presence of his dead wife - Rebecca. Really spooky."

"Huh," she dropped it back onto the pile, "Sounds like my kind of book. Dead wives, haunted men."

I shook my head at her, she was joking, but there was still an element of truth to her words. Who wouldn't want revenge on the arsehole that left them? "So," I said lightly, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Figured you'd need some cheering up." She brought out two spoons and sat on the bed, placing the tub of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream between us. "Besides – any excuse for eating ridiculous amounts of ice cream."

"I'm not complaining."

A few minutes and half the tub later Leah finally started the topic that she had really come around to discuss.

"So it was Jacob who told me about your accident. He was with you." She told me unnecessarily as I already knew that part.

I nodded. Was I about to get another warning? It wasn't like I asked Jacob to come and bother me. "Yeah, he came into the library. Is that a problem?"

She sighed. "No, I don't really have a choice in the matter." The bitter undertone was pretty hard to miss.

"You know nothing is going on. I don't even know why he keeps bothering me."

Her eyes were surprisingly sad when they looked up at me. "Not yet you don't."

"I'm not interested," I insisted. She snorted obviously not convinced.

"You say that now." The expression on her face was still gloomy. "But I don't want to stand in your way."

I laughed. "Believe me there is nothing for you to stand in the way of. I barely know him."

"But you like him." She persisted.

"Sure," I said, shoving my spoon deeper into the tub, "if you like a hole in your head." She had to smile at that. "He's fit, but I made a promise that I wasn't going to get into that sort of stuff while I was here – and for once I'm trying to keep it. Besides… I don't know, there's just something strange about him… I'm not sure I like it."

"What do you mean?" She was looking at me with guarded eyes.

I waved the spoon about my head. "I don't know it's just creepy."

"Creepy?" she clarified almost smiling. "You mean you don't like the way he looks at you?"

"No… I don't." I said suspiciously, eyeing her with the same caution a lion-tamer does his most temperamental lioness. "Why?"

She shoved her spoon into the chocolate ice cream with a grin and said "No reason" just before she filled her mouth with the frozen treat effectively cutting off any further comments.

I was still shooting her guarded looks. "You're seriously weird, do you know that?"

She shrugged, swallowing the great mass of chocolate. "It's been mentioned. So can I ask you a question?"

I narrowed my eyes. "I believe you already have." She was still waiting for a proper answer. "Sure, go ahead."

Replacing the spoon in the tub she shifted to sit squarely on the bed, facing me. "Why were you really sent here?" Direct to the point. "The truth."

Ah, that question. I was beginning to wonder who was going to try it first. Now it had happened I was glad it was Leah not Jacob (or even worse Quil or Embry) who had cornered me with it. How to answer? I wasn't going to divulge the whole truth, not right now, not to someone I'd met two days ago – most of my friends back home didn't even know that much. But I also knew I wasn't going to get away by fobbing her off with some made up excuse. So I gave her the edited truth. That was safe to speak out loud.

"I don't get on with my mum – we fight constantly. I go out too much, I drink too much, I have sex too much, and I skip school too much. She thinks I'm going to end up pregnant or on crack – or both." Leah's eyebrows rose infinitesimally as I went through the list of things my mother disapproved of. "Just picture Diana – only she's majorly stressed out with three kids under 5, and a daughter who frequently skips school." Leah grimaced at the image. "So, basically it has been a long time coming."

There was a silence then, as Leah seemed to digest the information I had divulged by stirring the melted part of the ice cream with her spoon. "I kind of guessed as much." A small smirk tugged at her lips and she lifted her eyes to meet mine. "Not here for the hiking then?"

I grinned back. "Definitely not."

"Oh," she said, standing up from the bed and shoving her hand into the back pocket of her jeans, "I have something for you." It was a rectangle envelope of cream paper – the expensive thick kind – with my name in swirling script across the front. "Emily gave me this to give to you." She passed the slightly crumpled invitation to me and sat back down again. "Don't be fooled by the formal invite," she warned with strangely darkening eyes, "the wedding is going to be pretty low key. Emily just always wanted the fancy posh paper, even when we were little."

I tore it open and briefly scanned the contents. "That's nice of her to invite me – of course she doesn't know I'm a juvenile delinquent yet, so…"

Instead of lightening the mood, Leah's eyes only blackened further at my comment. "She'd invite you anyway. She likes you, she thinks you're a good person – and she is a good person – so it wouldn't matter. Plus, Jacob's attachment to you helps."

Now it was my turn to scowl. "Seriously what the hell is going on here? Because this all just sounds so freaking ridiculous that I'm beginning to question your sanity as well as my own." Her mouth dropped opened and I knew exactly what she was about to say so I cut her off abruptly, flinging the invitation onto the bedside table next to me. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You're not allowed to tell me but if I asked Jacob (for some bizarre reason) he'd be able to." I was getting a little bit ticked off with this whole stupid secretive stuff and the amusement flickering through her eyes just sent me over the edge. Fine then, two can play at this game. "Since you can't tell me that, and since I just answered a ton of your questions, answer me this…" I paused, wondering if my next question was a wise one. I had never been known for my wisdom so I voiced it anyway. "What is the deal with you, Emily, and Sam?"

For a moment I thought she would ignore me, brush my probing aside, tell me it was none of my business – which would have been perfectly reasonable, it was none of my business (of course that hadn't stopped her prying). Instead she sighed and it was heavy as lead. "It's complicated." She stopped, and I waited patiently for her to continue.

When she did it was like the dam had crumbled and her tidal wave of a life came rushing out, I wondered at the force, I really hadn't been expecting it. What I thought she was going to tell me was the age old 'my arse of a boyfriend left me for my skank of a best friend'. I was close… and yet miles away. "I started dating Sam in my freshman year. We were similar back then, he wasn't so unbearably calm." A ghost of a smile flittered across her face for a moment; she was gazing down at the melting tub of ice cream – stirring it continuously with her spoon. "We always fought, but we made up in the end, it was part of who we were – we challenged each other. You know?"

I offered what I hoped was an encouraging nod. In reality I'd never been in a relationship like that, it was only with guys who either couldn't care less what I wanted, or blindly followed me around – I wasn't sure which made me more queasy.

"We got serious pretty quickly and after a while we started talking about moving in together, he'd go to college, rent an apartment, we'd start a life of our own." She paused; I presumed it was for my reaction.

"Wow," I said, "Were you engaged or anything?"

She shook her head, an odd glimmer in her eyes. "No. He wanted to. He said that there was never going to be anyone else for him, we just fit, so why not make it official? But I chickened out. I was 18 by then, I was too young, it was all a little much, and I thought we had time. So he agreed; promised me that one day he would ask me again." Leah's breathing grew deeper, in through the nose, out through the mouth.

"So what happened?"

"Then he vanished." She answered shortly. She turned away from me completely now, her voice holding a hard edge, and she hesitated over the phrasing. All of which were neon-bright clues that the next part was not the complete truth – and considering my edited truth earlier I let it go. "For two weeks, without a single word, he went missing. No one knew what had happened. His mother was distraught, she thought he'd been murdered or injured in the woods, and I… I just couldn't comprehend any of it. I didn't know what I would do if I lost him for good. Everyone was searching, but we found nothing." She stopped again. Her voice had trembled and I watched as she sucked in a deep breath, holding it, and then letting it out slowly.

"Was he alright?" I asked.

She nodded once and continued. "Eventually he came back. Only there was a wild look in his eyes I didn't recognise, it was hollow. He refused to explain where he'd been all that time. Of course I pushed him, I shouted at him, scared that he'd gotten mixed up in drugs or something, angry that he felt he couldn't tell me. Eventually he would get so wound up he'd have to get away." I wanted to ask about that, remembering the scary confrontation at the beach – but I knew instinctively that she wouldn't share it with me.

"That sounds fair. I mean you deserved an answer, a reason," I pointed out.

She shrugged a maybe, then carried on. "But he always came back. With our tempers calmed we would talk and it would be like it used to be for a while, but there was this secret still hovering over us. I…" She choked, and in frustration stabbed the spoon fiercely into the tub. "I really loved…" she hesitated… "Love him… So I was willing to work it out, and slowly we were doing just that, finding our way through all that mess, together."

"So…" I pushed.

"So then my cousin Emily came to visit." I cringed. "We had been close since childhood, she was the sister I never had, but she had not come to La Push for a while so she had never met Sam. It was love at first sight." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "They tried to fight it, but I guess it was just too much for them." She looked over at me and I noticed for the first time that there were tears glistening there in her dark eyes – they were bottomless, swirling with so many emotions it was hard to focus. "Do you know how Emily got her scars?"

"No." Feeling slightly bashful at the memory of how I had stared at them in the hairdresser's mirror.

Leah nodded as if this was what she had been expecting. "She was out in the forest with Sam, they were arguing, he was trying to persuade her that she couldn't just ignore the way she felt about him. And she was trying not to admit that she felt that way because of her loyalty to me… I guess that makes that my fault too." She looked almost amused, but there was so much bitterness that it wiped all humour from her expression. "It was salmon season and there was a bear. It attacked Emily. Luckily some men from the reservation were out in the forest at the time and heard the commotion, they fired their shotgun scaring the beast away. But Emily was marked for life, and Sam blamed himself for not seeing it, for not protecting her, there was nothing he could have done of course, but that didn't stop the guilt – and if there is guilt to be felt Sam Uley will feel it, he's just one of those guys. That was when she gave in. She started comforting him, trying to ease his conscience, his pain, and she fell for him. I suppose you could say the rest is history." She stopped dead. Briefly I wondered how she came to know all this – surely Sam or Emily hadn't told her?

I looked at Leah then. Her shoulders were pulled tight, her hands now had the tub in a death grip, and her face was staring stalwartly down at the sticky brown mess, refusing to acknowledge me yet. Slowly my mind was processing her story; only it wasn't a story, I kept reminding myself, it was her life, and it more than sucked.

Boyfriends had cheated on me before, but I never loved them, it had always felt like a relief to finally have an excuse for ditching them, for shouting at them, somewhere to direct my anger. But Leah, angry, bitter, hormonal Leah, had loved Sam completely. She still loved Sam completely, and every day she has to watch him and her cousin. That look he gives Emily, like she's the sun, and his world was darkness until he found her. And the tender way they touched each other, it was subtle – the hand on the small of her back or waist, the brushing back of her hair, or the holding of hands – but I knew Leah's sharp eyes picked up every single movement, replaying it masochistically in her head over and over again. Because that's what people do when something happens that they don't understand. When someone is taken from you and there is nothing you can do to stop it. To loose a loved one, that wound takes time to heal – sometimes forever.

I had no idea what expression my face had formed but suddenly I found Leah there, armour back on. "I don't want your pity," she snarled, "That's not why I told you."

"Good, because you don't have it," I lied quickly. I hadn't been after friends but I now counted Leah as one, maybe not a good friend yet – we were just beginning to know each other – but a friend all the same. Besides, I had the feeling she needed this.

Leah was still glaring daggers at me. "I'm going."

"Nope. Not happening." I said holding her gaze. Admittedly there was very little I could do in my current state to stop her exit but I was giving it my best shot. "Hand me your phone."

"What? Why?" she hadn't expected that.

"Because I need to call your mum and tell her you're staying here tonight," I explained.

Her eyebrows drew together. "What? No I'm not."

"Yes you are. What kind of friend would I be if I let you go home now?" The question was rhetorical but she looked like she was going to answer so I hurried on. "A bad one, that's what. So we are going to go and find something else high in calories, sugar, and hopefully e numbers too," (though with Diana it was highly unlikely I would discover any of these things in her fridge, so I was going to have to break into my secret stash), "then we are going to pig out in my room and do loads of girly shit."

This obviously wasn't clearing up any of Leah's confusion. "I can't."

"You can, and you are," my tone left no room for argument. Or so I thought.

"No really I can't. I have a… meeting… with the guys back at La Push. I was just going to stay for a bit."

I raised an eyebrow sceptically. A meeting? Yeah, sure. "What kind of meeting?"

"I can't tell you."

I sighed, fully irritated now. This was getting ludicrous. "Who exactly is it that's stopping you from telling me?"

She hesitated, weighing up in her mind whether or not she should let me know. She shouldn't – but I wasn't about to enlighten her. "Sam," was the name she finally gritted out. "Kind of."

Sam. What was it with this guy? "Right, give me your phone." I held my hand out palm up and gestured for her to hand it over.

"What are you going to do with it?" she asked, but pulled it from her pocket all the same.

"I am going to get you out of this meeting. You are going to go downstairs and call your mother." She looked like she was going to protest but I cut her off. "Nope. No arguments. This is how it will be. Now give me your mobile and bloody well get phoning!" She did as I told, albeit reluctantly and with a look that promised revenge.

I sat watching her walk out the room. Diana's politely surprised voice drifted up the stairs and after a minute of explanations from Leah I heard them disappear into the kitchen.

Alone in the bed I regarded the phone in my hand, flicking quickly through the numbers to find Sam's, before I could change my mind I called him. By the time I'd lifted the handset to my ear a deep voice was already demanding answers at the other end.

"Where are you Leah? You're already half an hour late, we're going to start without you."

I smiled. "This isn't Leah."

"Who is it," he said immediately, his tone icy, and if it weren't for the fact that it would have been ridiculous I could have sworn he sounded fearful.

"Alex."

He sighed, oddly relieved – who the hell did he think I was? "Where is Leah?"

"She's downstairs." And before he could jump in with more questions I moved swiftly onwards. "Now you listen to me Sam, and you listen good. I don't know what is going on here – but whatever 'meeting' you are having this afternoon will be Leah-less. She is staying here."

"Excuse me," he interrupted sharply. "Put Leah on the phone."

"I will not. You can inform her of what she needs to know tomorrow."

"I want to talk to Leah," he growled out.

But I remained firm. "Ok. So you seem like a nice enough guy, and I really like Emily, but are you trying to shred this girls heart to pieces?"

He was silent.

"She loves you, Sam, and I'm pretty certain you know that. Every single day she has to see you with the girl you left her for – her cousin, her best friend. How is she supposed to heal from that when she can't get away from it?"

All I could hear was his steady breathing.

"And I know she agreed to it, but asking her to be maid of honour at your wedding? Come on why don't you just twist the knife a little more?" Still silent. "So you see Samuel, Leah is staying here tonight, because she wants to, and because chocolate helps on the way to mending a broken heart. Ok?"

His voice was whisper soft when he spoke and drenched with remorse. I almost felt guilty, then I remembered that it wasn't his wounds ripped open every day with no chance to heal. "Ok."

"Good. Thank you, Sam."

I was about to close the mobile when he said my name.

"Yes?"

"I never wanted to hurt her."

I felt a lump catch in my throat. "I think she knows that."

Leah was snappier than a starving crocodile as she lay next to me on my bed scoffing her way through my secret stash of chocolate. Every question I offered she batted aside with a biting comment, a snarky remark, and I was beginning to loose my patience. I knew what the problem was, she felt vulnerable, and I could sympathise with that, but there was no need to take it out on me if she had let her titanium wall down for five minutes.

"For crying out loud!" I groaned as the feisty brunette next to me splintered my most recent olive branch. "Give it up already!" She narrowed her eyes at me – which was pretty impressive considering they were already well and truly narrowed due to my previously tactless comments about whether her maid of honour dress was pink and meringue shaped.

"What?"

"The whole snarky bitch thing you've got going on. I swear the events of this evening will not be mentioned ever again on pain of death."

"Why should I care?"

I rolled my eyes heaven-wards. "Well, you clearly do."

"No I don't. Tell whomever you like."

"Yeah you do." I challenged back. It was official, I was the idiot who put their head in the shark's mouth.

She looked furious. "No. I. Don't."

Were we seriously about to have a 'do' 'don't' argument over this? "Leah, come on. If you really want we can make up a dartboard with their pictures in the middle – would that make you feel better?"

Her grimace twisted almost into a smile but she was fighting it back. "No."

"Ok. How about we make Guy Forks scarecrows out of them and light a big old bonfire under them? You can even have sparklers." It was a good job I'd had years of practice at this with Molly and Jenny back home.

"Maybe a little." She conceded.

"I'll let you drench them in gasoline if you like." I offered generously.

She was softening now, definitely smiling. "Thanks."

"No problem. Now can I have some of the chocolate? I am the invalid here."

Leah tossed a half eaten Hershies bar at my head. "Sure thing Alexander!"

"Bitch."

"Takes one to know one."

And that was that.

The next morning Leah left early to go meet Sam and find out what exactly I had caused her to miss out on. She stomped out in such a manner that anyone would think I had forced her to sit eating chocolate until morning. To be honest I couldn't really believe it was anything as life or death as she made it out to be – then again maybe my joke of the La Push Mafia wasn't quite so funny after-all.

Once she had gone, and Diana had set off to work I was left alone in the house. I took this opportunity to play my music as loud as I wanted and email back my friends. When I checked my in-box I was a little dumbfounded to find a message from my mother – well, a message using my mother's address. It made me nervous and I hesitated before clicking on it to open.

A slow grin spread across my face as I watched a dozen pink bunny rabbits dance around the screen with crutches and plaster-cast legs. Under the ridiculous display, in bold multicoloured typing, was the simple message: GET WELL SOON!! Love From Tilly, Livi, and Georgie XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX… the kisses went on for the rest of the page.

I couldn't be certain, but I was pretty darn sure that neither my 4-year-old little sisters Matilda and Olivia, nor my 2-year-old baby brother George were capable of such computer wizardry yet. So that meant that either my Stepfather David or my mother had taken the time to send it on their behalf. Judging by the email address I had a good guess as to who it was. I felt a familiar stinging in my eyes and the computer began to go fuzzy.

That was the moment my phone buzzed loudly on the desk beside me. I lifted it to my ear, still not removing my eyes from the dancing screen, and sniffed back the tears, clearing my throat. "Hello?"

"Alex! Oh I got you, I wasn't sure because of the time difference, and Jenny said it would be fine but then I checked with Amber and she thought I was probably going to wake you up – but we both know what Amber's like so I don't know why I bothered to listen to her at all really." Molly took a deep breath. "So how are you? Did I wake you up?"

"No, I've been up for a while." I said quietly.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

I'd known Molls since I was four and we sat next to each other at the tiger table in reception. She was my oldest friend; she'd been there through all the falling out and making up that goes along with friendships as they grow. She had even been there when my world fell apart, she was there at the funeral, all the frequent fights with my mum, and she still stuck by me when I was being a total bitch to her. If anyone knew when something was bothering me it was Molly and not even the Atlantic Ocean could change that.

"I got an email…" I said, and she waited quietly for me to continue. "It was from the twins and George, only it was sent with mum's address."

"What did it say?" Her familiar voice was soft now, calming.

I took a shuddering breath and let it out. "Get well soon, with all these stupid bunny rabbits dancing about with crutches."

Molly let out a chuckle. "That's so…"

"I know," I laughed; a single droplet of moisture hit my hand – still poised over the keypad. "So tacky…"

"But also kind of sweet." Molly finished my sentence.

"Yeah."

"It'll all work out, Alex, you'll see." She promised, like she'd been doing for the past 5 years. "Every bruise takes time to heal." I rolled my eyes, she was so full of hippy dippy just open your heart to love stuff, but she was the only person that I could ever really open up to. There were still some things that I wouldn't even talk to her about – some things that were just too dark and too scary to ever bring out into the daylight. Those were the things I shoved into the back of a closet and padlocked up next to the vampires and werewolves of childhood nightmares. "So how come you're getting get well soon emails?"

"Huh?" I mumbled, having drifted off for a moment. "I twisted my ankle the other day."

"What!" she demanded in outrage obviously hurt that I hadn't informed her immediately.

"It was nothing," I tried to play it off, "I just slipped from a curb."

There was a shrewd silence that followed my explanation. "Since when, Alexandra May Grant, do you slip from curbs?"

Yeah, I didn't think she was going to buy that. I was not naturally a clumsy person; everyone who knew me knew that. I did gymnastics when I was little, and though not much of it stuck with me the physical awareness did and I was pretty graceful for the most part. I sighed, preparing myself for the inevitable. "This guy surprised me and I jerked away, hit the curb, and almost went under a car."

"A guy?" she said suspiciously, I could practically see her grey eyes narrowing. "Who?"

"Just this guy I met the other night. Jacob."

"Are you two…" she trailed off suggestively. I would have been insulted but she had reason enough think that way.

"No, no," I insisted, "I said I was going to behave and I am. He just won't leave me alone."

"What, like he's stalking you?"

"Yes – no – kind of." I fumbled, not clear in my own mind what Jacob was playing at. "I don't really know. He just…"

"Just what?" Now she was intrigued.

"Looks at me." I admitted feeling more than a little stupid.

She snorted. "Oh my god, he looks at you?"

"Ha ha," I deadpanned. "It's not funny, Molls, it creeps me out."

She was still laughing at me. "So you've met a guy with creepy eyes?"

"No, they're beautiful." Crap. Did I actually just say that out loud? That had to be the single sappiest thing I had ever admitted to. I drew in a deep breath, ignoring her increased amusement over my slip up. "He just looks at me really intensely, like he's trying to read my mind or something, trying to see inside me, it makes me feel all exposed. I mean I don't even really know him."

"Huh," she said abruptly, all trace of laughter gone. "But he's got under your skin." It wasn't a question. "And you haven't slept with him?"

"No." Now I was defensive – I wasn't a complete slut, I could refrain when I wanted to.

"Why? Is he ugly?"

"What? No!" Where the hell was she going with this?

"So he's cute then? Has he got bad breath, or is he seriously obese?"

"What? He's completely gorgeous, and no I don't think he's got bad breath, and he is definitely not obese." Why was I suddenly defending Jacob?

"Is he boring?"

"No." Actually he was far from it.

"Ok. So there is nothing wrong with the guy physically or mentally." She clarified. "So why don't you just sleep with him? I mean normally… and don't say it's because you made a promise, I know as well as you do that that was a load of rubbish."

"There's another girl." I said scrambling for a reason, not that it bothered me in the slightest.

"Is he with her?"

"No. She's marrying this other guy. I think he loves her though."

"Hmmm…" It was the noise she made when she had untangled some great mystery and was now congratulating herself for being so gifted.

"What?" I groaned, dreading her answer but needing it all the same.

She cleared her throat pretentiously. "Well. If he isn't with her, and she isn't with him, and he's showing interest in you, and he's cute, and has a good personality – why haven't you just shagged the boy? Maybe that's all he wants – to relieve a little tension – and you've never been opposed to that before (not that I personally approve). Why is it such an issue to you now? Why do you care that he might love this other girl? Sex isn't always about love – you know that."

"I don't care if he loves Isabella Swan."

"Yes you do."

I pouted at the phone; she was too freaking insightful for her own good. "He looks at me funny."

Molly let out a long-suffering sigh. "Honey," she said, carefully like she was afraid of scaring me away, and I knew she was about to drop some great pearls of wisdom on me. "At some point you are going to have to realise that all that physical stuff – its nothing, and it gets boring way too fast. One day you are going to have to let someone close enough that they may well hurt you, but you know what? They may also heal you. Think about it, you're going to be back in a month – no harm, no foul, right?"

I swallowed. "… I can't…"

"Yes you can."

The stinging started again, fiercer than before. "I really can't, Molly. I think there is something wrong with me… I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Nothing is wrong with you. You're just scared… but that's ok, it's going to take time."