A/N Stephenie Meyer owns, I just play.

Jasper and I had made it to the foyer of the Cullen's with our track bags slung over our shoulders when Esme skidded into view, already dressed in a cream blouse and tan capris. As always, she looked impeccable.

"Wait, boys. No leaving without saying bye."

She perched her hands on her hips and threw us a look of feigned hurt. I recognized that look; it had to be a mom thing. It was the exact same look my mom had given me when I turned ten and decided mommy kisses were gross and embarrassing, but still let her give them when no one was looking.

"Mom, we gotta go."

"I know, honey." She bustled up to the front door with us. "But you have the big meet tonight. Do you have your lunches? I packed you both extra Powerades."

"Thanks Esme." I wanted to get out of the house quickly, mostly because I didn't want to have to talk about the race. I knew I was quick and well-trained, but if even the local coupon-clipping grannies were suddenly paying attention to high school track, the Quileutes must have some pretty powerful runners. Thinking about it just made me more nervous.

"You kick some Wolf butt, okay Edward? You too, sweety." She had turned to Jasper, and pushed up to the tips of her bare feet to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Good luck tonight. I'll have a special dinner when you get home." She turned towards me and for a moment I thought she might try to give me a good luck kiss too, but it was just as well that she didn't. It would have been awkward, not the least bit because I might have let her.

Instead, she reached up to ruffle my already electro-shocked hair. "Be sure to tell us all about it tonight."

I nodded with a slight smile and Jasper gave my shoulder a push through the now-open door. He called out a goodbye to Esme as he grabbed my bag and threw it on top of his in the back seat. I rarely bothered to lock my car, especially not at the Cullen's.

We swung by Bella's place to pick up her and Alice. When I first got my license, Charlie was hesitant to let his only baby girl ride in the car of a "negligent teenage speed-freak." Of course, I had then reminded him that I wasn't just any old sixteen year old, and that especially with Ali and Bella in the car, safety was my top concern.

The Chief and I had a healthy respect for one another. I was on the scrawny side of fourteen when Alice had her first playdate at Bella's. Mom had been gone barely a month so that evening, when Dad couldn't remember who Alice was with or when she was coming back, I was truly unsurprised. Livid, but unsurprised.

I knew from Ali's dinnertime rants that she was getting along with another fifth grader, Bella, and that her dad was the police chief. A few flips through the local phone book later, and I'd figured out the whos and wheres of it all. Seeing that he was only a few blocks from us, I walked myself through the neighborhood to give Bella's dad my cell phone number for when (I'd said, "if") my dad was unreachable. I also asked him to give me a call when Alice wanted to come home, so she wouldn't have to walk in the dark alone. He promised, instead, that he'd drive her the few blocks and I thanked him politely. Apparently I made quite an impression because what had started in "What do you want, boy?" ended with a "and call me Charlie." And I had, ever since.

I waved to him through his kitchen window as the girls barreled down the driveway to pile themselves in my back seat. Alice complained about smelly gym shorts in our bags – which they weren't; Esme had washed them – and Bella was her typical quiet self. She always smiled when I spotted her in my rearview mirror, though. I think she was grateful not to show up to highschool in a squad car, overshadowed by a Menacing Chief of Police glare.

I parked casually in the school's lot, but Alice was out of the car and on her tiptoes before I even had a chance to lock my door.

"Jesus, Edward. What did you do, take a bath with the toaster?" She tugged desperately at my hair, forcing me to lean over. "I swear your head makes its own electricity."

Bella stepped softly around to our side of the car. She looked flushed, as if already embarrassed by what she was about to say. "Yeah, Alice. We call them brainwaves. You'll start needing them for midterms soon."

I winked over Alice's head. In three year's time, Bella would make one hell of a valedictorian, I had no doubt.

"Alice, my hair is fine. Plus, we race tonight. It's gonna get nasty anyway."

"That's, like, a million hours from now. You could at least do something in the meantime."

I shot a glance over my shoulder to find Jasper grabbing our stuff from the back seat. "Jasper, could you please explain that we men of substance don't give a crap about our hair? I swear I've tried a hundred times already."

"Alice, GQ is for you ladies to swoon over, not for guys to actually read. Besides, the girls like that disheveled, freshly sexed look on Edward." He gave me a sly grin.

The girls, of course, launched themselves to cling at each other in a fit of freshman-girl giggles and I avoided eye contact with anyone and everyone.

Well, that's one way to start a morning. I wasn't sure I had ever actually said the word sex in Alice's presence. I still hadn't, I guessed, but…she was barely three months into high school. She came up to my armpit and was still my kid sister. She was ages away from thinking about sex. I mean, right? Except for the obvious signs of puberty – okay. Not a chance in hell I was thinking about that today.

"Let's go," I mumbled to the ground. The girls couldn't compose themselves enough to respond, so we just headed to our lockers and then to class.

The week had moseyed along pretty much as usual. The AP homework piled back up and Jasper and I spent lunches talking smack about other schools' track teams with Mike and Tyler. After a little more prodding from Jessica, I'd finally remembered to ask Coach about cheerleaders coming to the meet. He just scoffed and said I could see my girlfriend after I reminded those Wolves who Racin' Masen really was.

Even remembering that made my eyes roll of their own volition. The cheerleaders? Really? They were so… high pitched. The football team had had their heads ground into the mud so many times, they probably needed their girls to sound like dog whistles just to hear them. And besides, honestly, they could have them. We'd all seen under those skirts one too many times anyway.

Alice found me at lunch, to wish me the good luck she had been laughing too hard to deliver earlier.

"You're not coming?" Jasper asked.

Her eyes widened with momentary panic, and she started that little nervous-bouncy thing she did. "No. Was I supposed to?" She darted glances back and forth between the two of us. "I'm sorry Edward, I didn't think to ask Charlie. And, well, you're the only person I know with a car."

I waved her off. "No one's coming. It's not worth it. Forget he mentioned it." She gave an apologetic grimace, and hugged me for real good luck before flouncing off to haunt the drama building.

I turned to Jasper. "Why'd you even mention it?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. You seem all keyed up, I figured you two had been spazzing together."

"Naw. She has more than enough to obsess over. And apparently," I joked, "if it's that obvious, I'm nervous enough for all of us."

He obliged me with a smile, and we joined the rest of the track team to shit-talk the Wolves for the rest of lunch. I didn't offer much banter though. I tried especially hard to tune out any mention of one J. Black, but to no avail. Apparently he was only a junior and his name was on so many of the Quileute record sheets it was impossible to blow him off, to which my only reply was: well, damn.

In a blink of essays and calc quizzes, Jas and I were on the Forks High bus to La Push. Coach was in the front seat, facing the rest of us and giving some pep talk I doubted would be very inspirational. The goal was to run fast, got it.

The Quileute High gym was nondescript, with a painted track around the basketball courts that was a color best suited to disguise both dirt and blood. The loudest sounds were our tightly-laced shoes squeaking towards the bleachers.

Now that we were here, everyone seemed as tense as I felt. We made our way over to a man with skin almost the same muddy-red color as the track, who was holding a clipboard. I gave my name and checked in for the fifty-five, two hundred and four hundred meter dashes, and the fifty-five meter hurdle. With a quick nod to Jasper, I headed over to the benches where Coach Clapp was onto part two of his motivational speech, and began to stretch.

I recognized Jasper's running shoe as it was lifted to the bench beside mine.

"Jacob," he said under the roar of Coach's pride-fueled words.

I mouthed, 'what?'

"Jacob Black. The J is for Jacob."

"Oh." I craned my neck back over my shoulder, searching out the Quileute team. "Which one is he?"

"Don't know. Whichever one is maddest when you kick his ass?" He grinned and I grinned back. I was looking forward to having this meet, and Jacob Black, well behind me.

"Masen. Cullen. Eyes up front." We snapped to attention and listened as the coach gave out individual advice. Mine was to keep my left foot tucked over the hurdles, and save some energy for a final burst of speed. "Startin' first don't mean squat if you don't finish first."

I nodded and gave my arms and legs a final shake-out.

Coach put his hand out, and we all stepped forward for the customary Forks cheer. Placing all our hands on his, we formed a circle as he whispered, "One… two…"

"Forks High Hawks! Break!"

The distances I was racing, being short, were up first. Most events didn't have enough racers to warrant more than one heat, so as I stepped up to my starting line I scanned the track for Jacob Black. Eric and Leah were on either side of me and beside Eric, closer to the center of the track, were two nearly identical looking guys. They had the same glossy black hair that Leah had, which didn't surprise me since her family used to live on the rez, but their bare arms were even darker – a sun-kissed version of her cinnamon colored skin.

What caught my attention most, though, was their size. I had to look up to study their faces, putting them both at well over six foot three. Scanning them, from the impenetrable black of their eyes to the tension in their fists, my only true thought was: monsters. These guys looked like monsters. And not just the kind that hid in your closet and waited for you to open it, the kind that would track you, unheard, through the dark of your house because they sure as hell wouldn't even fit in your closet.

"Kiss my dust, Jake," Leah called across me.

Two pairs of eyes flickered in my direction, but only one looked dangerous. "Not a chance, chicken legs."

So that was him. The J. Black. Jacob. His gaze swam over me as he dismissed Leah and for a moment I felt… dirty.

I shook the thought from my head and turned to face front. Within moments, there was a voice on a bullhorn.

"Runners take your mark!"

I stepped into position, one foot forward between my fingertips, outstretched on the waxy wood.

"Get set!"

I sank deeper into my crouch.

Beep!

All thoughts flew from my mind like sand from the top of a moving car. The distance was so short, it was over in a matter of seconds, but it was still enough to remind me of the rhythmic bliss of my feet carrying me forward. Several yards after I was sure I'd passed the finish line I slowed, leaning back to curb my own momentum, and turned. Most of the others were just slowing past the finish line, but one figure caught my attention. Already standing still as a goal post, his monstrous black eyes were trained directly on me.

Then I heard the cheers from my own team, screaming and whooping like we'd just won the whole damn meet. Under it all was the distinct caliber of Jasper's call, which my own ears were always tuned to like a homemade radio.

"Hell yeah, Masen!"

I grinned deeper, the body heat from my brief dash all rising into my face. I knew then that I'd won. I'd ignored the world for ten seconds and reemerged, victorious. And if I'd won, that meant that Jacob Black …

… was walking straight towards me. His unrestrained hair was pushed back from his ears, like he was still running, but his paces were frighteningly slow.

Who knew a teenage boy could look so feral?

When he was within hearing but out of reaching distance, he stopped with a wide stance.

"What's your name?"

I was momentarily offended that he didn't know and dread my name like I did his. I had been at the center of Forks High's unbeatable track team for three years now, along with Jasper and Mike. But then again, his cocky attitude certainly hadn't prepared him for losing, and I was sure it was a painful shock.

"Masen." No way was I letting this vicious meathead call me Edward.

His eyes widened at that. "Racin' Masen?"

Ah. So the carnivore had heard of me? I nodded smugly. That's right, J. Black. I've got three school records and a rhyming nickname, what've you got?

Ok, admittedly, he probably had the same. Hell, I knew for a fact some of his records beat mine. But still – today, I had beaten him.

He spun wordlessly and stalked back to his own team, so I jogged back over to mine.

Coach Clapp stepped forward to slap me on the back with an "attaboy!" as I passed him to grab my drink. Jasper reached me next, and shook my shoulders so vigorously I nearly choked.

"That was awesome! That guy looked so pissed!"

"That was Black."

Jasper took in a sharp breath of understanding. "That explains it."

"I dunno." I may have won, but I didn't know exactly by how much. I had a feeling it wasn't a lot.

"Don't worry, man. You'll continue to kick his ass, and then we'll drive away laughing."

I dropped my Powerade back to the bench. "Yeah, until he follows me home to cut out my heart in retribution."

Jasper chuckled at my melodramatics but after a moment, he winked. "Don't worry Edward. I'll protect you."

I groaned at being patronized, but rolled my eyes with a half grin before trotting back to the starting line for the two hundred meter race.

Black glared, but I ignored him adeptly. I waited for the buzzer and, staring straight along the curve of the track before me, shot off between my white lines.

As I rounded the curve, I pushed against the varnished floor with full force. I could feel my calves and thighs coiling and releasing, but it didn't yet hurt. They didn't burn, just confirmed that I was working them hard.

I won that race too, to the sounds of more cheers from my onlooking teammates and audible cursing from Jacob Black.

Next up was a longer distance, to give the sprinters time to recoup. I gave Jasper a hearty smack on the back and said, "They've got nothing on you," in encouragement.

He wagged his eyebrows with a sly smile. "We'll see." And then he was off.

I was glad Jasper ran longer distances because it gave me time to study his form. He was glorious – lithe and agile, with the definition of his calves apparent even from across the gym. I hoped that, when I ran, I looked like Jasper.

He won, easily, which was as expected. Just another one of those things that came naturally to Jasper.

He finished the race a full five seconds before anyone else. I pushed off the bench to congratulate him but before I made it to the track, Black sauntered into my view. Instead of sparing me a glance, he stepped straight up to Jasper.

Pausing mid-step I watched, stunned, as Jasper propped his hands on his hips, threw his head back, and laughed. That asshole Black had made him laugh. Why was he talking to him anyway?

I saw Jasper respond, but couldn't hear him. They exchanged a few brief sentences before Black patted Jasper's shoulder and slipped back to his own team.

What. The. Fuck?

Instead of congratulating Jas like I'd planned, he ended up waving a hand in my face to get my attention.

"Edward? You with me?"

"Oh. Yeah. Good job."

He grinned at my dazed expression, but nodded. "Thanks."

"You, uh, friends with Black?" I hedged.

"What?" He laughed it off. "No, man, just friendly banter."

I wondered how friendly, and my silence must have prompted him further.

"Just typical captain bullshit. Don't worry about it."

Like just saying it made it happen. That asshole was captain? And he made Jasper laugh? The reasons to really hate him were just racking up.

Coach jogged up with Eric in tow. "Masen, on the track."

Eric slipped by with a nod before taking his position at the starting line. His 'YORKIE' jersey always made me laugh – maybe we could have one of those iron-on decals shaped like a terrier made for it. I grinned up at the coach and then Jasper, who winked.

"Keep on makin' him sweat."

I nodded and, within moments, was poised at my own staggered starting line, a few steps behind Eric, braced for the buzzer.

I don't really know what happened. Maybe I'd gotten too cocky and let my guard down. Maybe I was still distracted by the image of that bastard Black making Jasper tip his head back in a real, full-belly laugh, shaking his sweaty golden curls in the sun. Maybe I was too busy looking for him to realize he was beside me and gaining, step by step.

Cheers erupted as I busted my ass over the finish line, but too soon. The bystanders were on a two second delay, always needing a few moments to confirm with each other that their eyes did not deceive them. So when I heard them immediately, and from the wrong side of the field, I knew I had lost.

To Black.

God. Damnit.

It's not just that I hated losing (which, of course, was obvious) or that I resented Black's carefree confidence (again, duh). It was that he walked in with his grin and his tan and the reverent space his teammates gave him, like he was too fucking hot to touch. He was practically a baby in the world of track meets but still, the moment he showed up, he wanted it all. The trophies. The cheers. Even the easy camaraderie with Jasper. He wanted everything that was mine.

I sat on the bench ignoring all the consoling backslaps and droning platitudes. Jasper, luckily, knew better than to try. He just plopped his ass down on the bench beside me and waited out the buzzers and cheers until his next race. Which he won, obviously.

I knew my goal, my mantra – to beat Black – and I only had one more chance.

They finally called hurdles. For a moment I wished that I had registered for more races, just to increase the number of times he could see my MASEN jersey beating him. But, no – I was a sprinter. I knew what I was good at, and anything else was risking defeat.

Jasper finally spoke. With one hand on my shoulder, he looked straight in my eyes and nodded. "This time."

I nodded back. This time, I'd be better than Black.

I took my place on the white starting line. Crouched, one knee forward, my fingertips trailing along the rubbery wax of the gym floor, just like always. One foot, then the other. Don't look back. Kick some wolf ass.

Beep!

I reached the hurdles quickly, keeping my focus straight ahead. With just enough space to clear the obstacle, I took one strong leap. My right leg I held straight before me to pass the hurdle and catch my landing. The other I tucked up beneath me at the knee, like a bird preparing for flight. Step, step, step, leap. Step, step, step, leap. I cleared one hurdle after another, barreling forward without a thought. I synchronized my breaths to the pounding of my feet.

Three hurdles left – leap. Two left. I refused to look around for Black but suddenly, not in my peripheral vision but just slightly ahead of me, I saw movement.

Leap. One left. Step. Step. The movement ahead was quickly approaching or, rather, I was gaining on it. My mind, suddenly complacent about the hurdles, turned its pattern recognition to the gold-tipped tangle of curls bobbing along the side line. And those eyes – I could pull that opalescent shade of blue out of any crowded room. Jasper.

I turned my head as I passed, eager to see my success reflected in his face. Step. Step. Leap.

I groaned. The only thought in my head was suddenly, Holy shit, ow!

I tried to move, but found that my feet gained no purchase against the slick floor. What's more, my eyes were still closed, so after a moment I gave up trying to accomplish anything at all. I felt suddenly overwhelmed. Someone called my name, but I simply laid there waiting, breathing, hurting. I tried to ignore the pain, and the anxiety of what I'd injured and how badly.

Something tugged at my shoulder, but I strained against it. The movement just accentuated the many epicenters of pain radiating through my body. My knee and calf each had their own sensation of stabbing pain, as well as my elbow, and both my hands.

There was some commotion around my legs which caused a hiss of pain on my part, and then someone was calling my name again, but… closer. Softer. Gentler.

"Edward? Can you hear me?"

I groaned again, but allowed the pressure on my shoulder to roll me over. A soft hand swept the hair off my forehead.

"Can you open your eyes?"

I obliged with only one eye, and was met with that same glacial, stunning blue.

"Jas-" I started, but found that speaking hurt too. Add my face to the list of casualties. Instead I just mouthed, 'ow.'

He was instantly upright and calling for Coach before dropping back down to my side. "Can you stand?"

I gave a short nod with both eyes open and put my hand out for help. He grabbed it, and I winced. It felt raw, and hot. What do you call a rug burn when there's no rug?

He tugged, and stood with me, but as I stepped to right myself I felt my knee give way. Stinging tears came to my eyes and I must have let out a cry of some sort, because Jasper's arms were around my chest before I could sink back to the floor. I let my forehead fall against his shoulder and said, more audibly, "It hurts."

"I know, man. I know. I'm gonna take care of it."

Stringing my arms around his neck, I sagged even further against his restraining arms to take the weight off my aching leg. I tried to ignore the way it pulsed and stung anyway.

Coach Clapp and some of the guys were quickly by our side. I was reluctant to let go of the safe haven that was Jasper, but Mike hoisted his body under one of my arms as Coach said, "Get 'im to the bench, boys."

I hobbled as Jas and Mike did most of the work.

It wasn't until they got me situated with my leg propped up that I even bothered to look around. My attention was immediately drawn to the Wolves across the gym, who were laughing and slapping each other high fives. All except Jacob Black who was... staring at me?

The minute we made eye contact across the open, musky gym, he threw his head back and let out a wavering but resounding howl. His teammates, as if answering his call, threw their heads back to howl along.

It sounded, well, stupid. These were teenage boys, and they sounded more like dying roosters than vicious wolves. Still though, they seemed pretty pleased with themselves, and that just pissed me off. Especially Black. I wanted to storm over there and hit him, just once, so that I could enjoy his pain like he was clearly enjoying mine. He made eye contact again, with a smug grin, before joining in some more group high-fiving and crowing. What was this, some bullshit Quileute endzone dance?

Clearly, that bastard thought he was better than I was. He might have won, but he didn't beat me. I had tripped – I made a mistake and I wasn't there at the finish line. There's no glory in winning if you have no competition.

My jaw started to ache, and I realized I was clenching it too hard. Tenderly, I prodded my jaw and lip with one hand. Yup, all hail Racin' Masen, that guy who fell on his face. It ached more when Coach Clapp swung into my line of view and began manhandling it. He turned my face brusquely from side to side asking, "You still got your teeth?"

I nodded somewhat defiantly, trying to pull my face from his grip. He let go, though, and quickly dropped into a squat in front of me. I may have overreacted, somewhat, when I saw him reach for my right knee and slapped his hands away. He looked affronted, and annoyed, but I'd be damned if I was gonna let him yank my leg around like he'd done to my face. Everything from my knee down was already throbbing. At his nonplussed glance, though, I offered a meager, "It hurts."

"Yeah, I figured that out, kid. You want the nurse to look at it?"

I nodded. Anyone but you, Coach, anyone but you.

He signaled over a petite woman waiting on the Home-side bleachers, with the Wolves. Her long, ebony hair was in a thick braid down her back and she whispered something to Leah on the way over. Just like Coach had, she squatted at my feet and I instinctively cringed back. She just smiled up at me.

"I know it hurts, son. I'm just going to feel for anything broken, okay?"

I nodded and inhaled deeply against the coming pain, but her hands were warm and her eyes were soft as she ran her fingers up my shin and calf. I winced when she put pressure on my knee, but nothing seemed too dire.

"What's the word, Sue?"

The nurse stood, dusting off her long, paisley skirt. "Nothing's broken," she said to both me and Coach. "And his knee feels fine, but it's going to swell something awful. Make sure you ice it first thing when you get home."

I continued nodding dumbly. Wasn't there any ice now?

"Try not to move it, and if the swelling hasn't gone down by tomorrow, see a doctor, okay?"

Jasper spoke up from over my shoulder, where I hadn't realized he was also listening in. "My dad will take a look at it."

The nurse raised an eyebrow. "You're Cullen's kid?" Jasper must have nodded because she continued, "Good, good. See that he does."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The nurse looked down at me then and, oddly, my first thought was that she must have children. The little crinkles around her mouth and eyes when she smiled concernedly seemed distinctly motherly. "Can I get you some ice, Edward?"

Abso-friggin-lutely. "Yes, please."

She chuckled – I assumed at my eagerness, or relief. "Alright then, be right back."

Coach filled in the empty space she had left to bark out orders about ice and heat and bandages and Dr. Cullen and anything else he thought might get me back on the racetrack sooner. It took me a moment to realize he wasn't even talking to me. I looked back over my shoulder to see Jasper nodding conscientiously.

The adrenaline rush was starting to fade, and a wave of exhaustion passed through me. Comforted by the knowledge that Jasper would remember everything I was supposed to do, I let my eyes fall shut. I was jarred, a few moments later, by two large hands on my face. The touch wasn't painful, like Coach Clapp's, but I opened my eyes anyway.

Jasper was there, looking worried and confused, which was an unexpected look for him. "Edward, can you hear me?"

"Of course I can hear you." I tried to shake my head out of his hands but he kept them against my cheeks.

"Okay, well you have to keep your eyes open. Do you feel sleepy? How hard did you hit your head? Should I get the nurse back?"

He stroked his hands up my face before lifting my eyelids with his thumbs. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but he still seemed to be leeching the anxiety out of me with his touch. I relaxed into his palm, gazing up at him.

"I just hit my lip, Jas. I'm fine. Isn't it swollen yet?"

He slid one hand down to stroke a thumb across my bottom lip which did, indeed, feel swollen under his touch. He let out a small chuckle, and the ease and mirth that was usually present in Jasper's face returned. "Yeah, man. It's gonna be sticking out for days."

I groaned at the thought and the aching throb that returned when he let his hands drop.

Eventually Leah showed up with an ACE bandage and a disposable ice pack, which I placed against my knee. I transferred it to my pained lip just long enough for Jasper to wrap the bandage up and down my leg expertly.

Eventually, he slipped away to win another race or two, and I swung my other leg up on the bench so I could lie down. I kept my eyes open, as per Jas's request, and stared at the high mottled ceiling while I thought.

What had happened? I remembered Jasper, on the sidelines, right towards the end – hrmm. Right when I tripped. I had let myself get distracted, damnit. The nurse didn't seem too concerned, but what if I had really damaged myself? I wanted to fast forward in time and know that this wasn't anything serious because without my knee I couldn't run. Without running, there was no scholarship, and without a free ride, there was no fancy alma mater. And without that…

"Edward! What did I tell you?"

I turned to see Jas jogging towards me, wiping the dripping sweat from his eyes with the back of his arm.

"Breathe," he prompted.

Oh yeah.

"And whatever you're thinking, drop it. Dad'll check you out, and you'll be just fine."

"Jas," I sat up and whispered, "You don't get it. Without track, I don't stand a chance at—"

"Dude." He held out a hand, stopping me. He seemed utterly at ease, despite his panting breaths. "We'll figure it out, I promise. Right now, just relax and make sure you don't move that knee."

I laid back down and covered my eyes with my hand in a futile attempt to block out the pain and the worry. Part of me wanted to rage and scream – I should have beat that menacing fucker Black, and I should be walking away with my head held high, proud and unassisted. But the other part of me was exhausted, and it wanted to curl up someplace safe and warm and forget about reality for a while.

Running was usually my refuge though, and I didn't know where to turn without that. I could still hear Jasper sucking in air beside me as I tried to remember the last place I'd felt the security and warmth I craved. It was…well, actually, it was in that brief minute on the track that I leaned into Jasper and let him carry my weight. With his arms around me, I'd no longer felt so overwhelmed.

That unexpected thought distracted me from my stinging knee, as if just the reminder of his proximity was a balm to my nerves. Hadn't he just said he'd help me deal with it? I didn't have to think about it – not alone, anyway. I could just put my knee up like he'd said and wait there, basking in the relief of having a best friend like Jasper who would take care of it. Of me.

These chapters just keep getting longer and longer! Do you think Edward should let Jasper kiss it better? Review and let me know.

Stick around for the next chapter, when the lines start to blur.