This kind of may be my favorite chapter so far that I've written, and the longest in this story. It is about three thousand words.

Please, review! Thank you to kiwiflea for her review on last chapter.

I do not own Twilight.

Jacob tried kissing me a few times after that one experience. I shied away most of the time, not because I did not want to, but because I was afraid of the heavy burden that came with being connected to him. He was something otherworldly, something that I could not wrap my mind around, something I did not want to submit to. If I had to form a relationshipwith him, it would be on my own terms. It was not going to be because of some mystical force that I created some sort of relationship between us; my terms were better suited for me than anything.

I did not know him, nor had I wanted to a mere few weeks ago. He was rude, narcissistic, and restive, but yet he managed to be sweet to me in the oddest of ways. It was maddening, just like this city and the many secrets hidden within it.

"You're starting school in a bit, you know. We wanted to wait until the semester finished up, since you'd already completed most of your studies in your old school," Sam said, startling me as he put a large hand on my shoulder. It was a bad habit of mine to blank out for a bit, lost in my thoughts for more than a few minutes. Apparently nobody had caught on, because when I had a blank stare, people still continued to startle me unintentionally.

I sighed. "Yeah, I know, I'm not looking forward to it."

"Why?" He set a gentle hand on my back. I flinched away from it. He removed it, clearly sensing my discomfort; I did not like to be touched by people who lied so constantly to me.

Sure, I was being a bitch, but why should I have to suffer in silence when I was clearly upset?

He looked at me, saddened. It was an expression I had got often from him following our fallout. "Bianca—"

I cut him off in a hurry, not wanting to hear what came next. "I've had some bad experiences with school, that's all."

It was not that I was unconcerned with what he had to say to me, it was that letting him explain himself would break me. I had been manipulated my whole life into forgiving, forgetting, and obeying; I did not intend on reverting back to that part of my life. He would have to deal with the pain for a bit longer, as I had all of those years he never came back after I covered for him for many years before that. I was sheltered, then cast out because of his foolishness and all of those times I was excruciatingly stupid to protect him. He never told me why, but now I knew. I had no reason to protect him, I should have protected myself and made myself happy and safe.

"Stop changing the damn subject, Bianca! Talk to me!" I flinched away from his words. He was shaking, towering over me in a looming shadow of blackness. He slammed his hands on the table and I jumped away from him, my heart beating like a dashing jack-rabbit. This was one of the things I had not missed about Sam; his anger. It was explosive and unpredictable like a game of Russian Roulette; you never knew when or if the chamber would click and spare you or shoot and kill you.

"Stop, Sam."

He was grabbing my shoulders in a grip that I was sure would leave a bruise that next day. It was pure anger in his eyes that I saw, something that scared me half to death. He clearly was not using his full force on me, so I pushed him away from me with a weak shove. It had felt like he had gripped the hardest he could, but I knew he had not meant to hurt me. He would never hurt me intentionally, or so I hoped.

"You keep ignoring my advances and I'm trying to say sorry. I don't think you can see that, since I've tried many times and you just brush me off life its nothing and change the subject to whatever else I happened to bring up before. It is getting sickening that you just think you can go around acting like you're the one who is getting hurt when you are the one inflicting pain on everybody around you!"'

I glared at him. "Do you know what I've been through in the past three years? Actually, don't answer that, because you weren't there. You said you would always protect me Sam, and where did that get me. It definitely got me into a lot of trouble, risking everything for you when you didn't do the same when I really needed it!"

"We shared everything, Sam. I told you everything, but we both kept secrets and now one of ours is out and the other is left to suffer. Do you know why, Sam? Because that night you snuck out to go do whatever the hell werewolves do, I left to go to a party so Mom would punish both of us and it would lessen the blow."

He stared at me quizzically, clearly wondering what direction I was going in. It clearly was not a good topic for him and anger showed through his confused demeanor in the scariest of ways. He was shaking again, but this time worse. I was shaking too, I realized, but in a panicky way. My heart was racing and anger was flooding my system and I could not stop it. It felt like an eternity as I paused, trying to catch my breath enough to say the next words that needed to leave my mouth since the time it happened.

"I got drugged, but I don't know what happened. One minute, I was drinking something out of a red cup and the next minute I woke up bruises littering my body and I was alone. I walked home that day with a jacket on that covered me up well, you were there with Mom. She yelled at me, you just stared at me, didn't ask if I was okay or anything."

I wasn't crying, I had told myself a long time crying over past events was not worth it.

"The best part is that in Spokane, I got beat up because I tried to say no to people who tried to entrap me into doing something very similar. That is why I came here, as well as the fact I'm now Mom's troubled child."

"Bianca . . ." he tried again.

Anger made its appearance in my mind again. "Is that all you can say? I don't want your pity, Sam! I don't want anyone to pity me, especially you."

"Bianca, I'm genuinely sorry that I didn't do anything to stop it, and that I didn't tell you about this, but I couldn't! You and I know that very well and you know that I care about you as more than a brother, but as that of a father. I raised you, not Mom, not Dad not anyone else and you know perfectly well I never meant to hurt you. I love you, Bianca, more than anything in this world."

"I forgive you," I said.

Mostly, I thought sadly.

"I think I'm going to go out," I said quickly, getting up from my chair. I felt pain in my shoulders when I braced them, and quickly pulled a cardigan over them so Sam wouldn't see the bruises I assumed were forming in the shapes of hands. It would make him feel guilty and coddle me. I did not want him to be looming over me more than he already would be after my confession.

"Where?" He asked hesitantly.

If I said I had no idea, he probably wouldn't let me leave. I had to think of somewhere he thought I would be safe for sure, and to my annoyance, I only thought of one. It was the Jacob's house, and I was desperate enough that I would go anywhere. Not that Jacob was bad company, but I just wasn't in the mood to converse with somebody. I liked parks, libraries, beaches, and other places that I could keep to myself in silence and tranquility. Jacob was the opposite after everything happened. He wanted to know everything about me, even the things I hardly knew about myself.

I thought I could truly have something with him with a little more work. It was on our own terms that we got to know each other, and he was really interesting and charming, oddly enough. He really liked me and I was starting to like him surely but slowly. It felt weird to have a relationship like that with someone like Jacob because some odd months ago, surprisingly, I would have never imagined myself being attached to someone in the way I was attached to him.

"I'm going to go see Jacob," I said after a long pause.

"Are you sure? What you just told me was—"

"Once again, I don't want pity, Sam," I cut him and his concerned expression off.

I walked to the door in spite of the tightening feeling in my heart. "I love you."

"I love you too, Binky."

I opened and closed the door, grinning once I was out. He had not called me Binky since I was about ten years old; it felt odd, but strangely satisfying, to be called my old nickname for the first time in many years.

I walked to Jacob's house feeling much happier than before. His house was less than a mile away from mine; it was not at all hard to get there, and I arrived in record time. I checked my watch. It was half past twelve in the afternoon, so I had time to burn until, well, I found something to do. It was boring to stay doing the same old thing for long periods of time; it was possible maybe Jacob wanted to go out. I would have to ask him later.

I rang the doorbell and waited for what felt like an eternity, until I heard the familiar click of gears turning in the door. The door opened and a dark and aged looking man was sitting before me in a wheelchair, his eyes narrowed at the sunlight streaming into the dimly lighted house. I realized this was Billy Black, a man I had been remiss in meeting in these few weeks, unsurprisingly. He looked like Jacob, but with a more angular face and much wiser eyes, darker eyes.

"You're the Uley girl, Bianca," he smiled, revealing two rows of pearly white teeth that contrasted with his coppery skin. "My son has been talking about you a lot. I've hardly gotten a moment of conversation from him that he hasn't mentioned your name."

I felt a warm feeling spread across my cheeks and groaned internally at the blush I knew was staining my cheeks red. He was just making a statement, but my stupid emotions had to be screwy and make me feel embarrassed and flattered that Jacob had been talking about me. It was my stupid teenage hormones, my stupid brain, and my stupid mind that made my face turn red in front of someone I was meant to make a proper impression on.

I grinned at him, pretending that my heart wasn't beating fast and my face wasn't turning a lovely shade of scarlet. "Yeah, I'm the Uley girl," I said. "You're Billy Black, the tribal elder. I remember my mother used to speak fondly of you."

His eyes sparkled with interest at the mention of my mother. He led me into the house and ushered me to sit in a chair across from his wheelchair. "

"How is Allison?" He asked.

"She's okay. I haven't heard from her in a while, but she's always okay. She prefers being on her own, actually," I answered him vaguely. He did not need to know the specifics of how my mother was because she was perfectly fine, probably celebrating, on her own. She never liked having Sam and I in the house, and had waited eagerly for the moment we would both be out of the house and her sight.

"Mister Black, I was actually looking for Jacob. Is he home?" I added.

He placed a hand on my arm, closing the gap between out two chairs. "Please, call me Billy," he said. "And yes, he's sleeping. He was out late last night, but he's been asleep at least since twelve in the morning, so it's probably best for him to be woken."

"Okay," I said reluctantly, not sure if I should go in there and wake him. It would have been a job better suited for Billy. "May I ask where his room is?"

"Down the hall, first room on your right."

I followed his directions and found his room. It had a yellow do not enter sign plastered in the middle on it, and childishly, I pushed open the door to disobey the sign. I felt ridiculous, but laughed at the simplicity and stupidity of what I had just done. I felt four again, like I was secretly and deliberately feeding the horses at the petting zoo just for the sake of disobeying the giant, red-lettered sign that stated Do Not Feed the Animals.

He was sleeping, I already knew that, but I felt my heart stop when I saw how he was sleeping. He was sprawled out so that all four of his limbs touched each post of the bed, his muscular bronzed legs leading up to-

He had no pats on, just a pair of grey briefs, but oh my goodness. My brain and heart were in tune with each other, both beating roughly two-million miles an hour along with another tightening sensation in my stomach that I couldn't find the word for. I felt something odd for those few seconds, but then shook it off quickly. If Billy walked in and saw me ogling his son in boxers, what would he say?

"Jacob," I said forcefully. "Wake up."

I walked over to his bed, trying to keep my eyes off of his practical nakedness. "Wake up, asshole."

He had grumbled something, and my eyes widened in alarm as I was suddenly pulled into the bed with him, trapped between his two interlocked arms and his hot body. It wasn't attractive hot, but steaming, like my brother's skin often was when I touched him. It was comfortable, like when my brother used to come in my room and hold me until I went to sleep during thunderstorms. I considered staying in his arms in a momentary lack of judgement, but I realized my stupidity. I squeaked, but Jacob did not move one bit.

"Don't move, this is really comfortable for me, too."

He was awake, and had grabbed me on purpose. In his boxers, on his bed, half naked, with me in a wife beater and pajama shorts. The blush was back, and this time I did not fight it. This time, there was a reason to blush, and I was about to scream as well as blushing.

"You're awake! You asshole!" I yelled under my breath. I tried to get up, but he pulled me back down.

His eyes were still closed, and he spoke calmly. "You should stay. It's not like I'm assaulting you, and we've already made out before. Besides, you're my soulmate." He grinned, finally opening his eyes and looking at me. We were facing each other, noses almost touching.

"We shouldn't be doing this," I said, starting to get lost in his pupil-less black eyes.

"We're just cuddling, there's no harm in that. You're so uptight, just let yourself have some relaxation," he stared back, and slowly but surely kissed me. It was quick and sweet like the brush of a feather duster. It was something I had heldhim back from for weeks. He stared into my eyes for my reaction, and internally sighing, I returned the favor with no further word.

"Now see, that wasn't that bad, was it?" He asked me quietly. "After weeks of you abstaining, it's all right for little kisses."

"We're not together, though, and I wanted it to be on our own terms," I started to get louder.

He was still staring into my eyes. "It is on our own terms. This isn't because of me imprinting, it's because I truly like you for you. Obviously, if you haven't moved away from me yet, you feel the same."

He leaned in to kiss me again, but I rolled away from him, grinning. "Don't take it personally, but you're in your boxers, and we need to get out of this house. Would you like to go out to lunch with me, Jacob Black? I came to go out, not sit in the house all day."

"Are you asking me on a date, Bianca Uley?" He asked, feigning shock.

I dug through his drawer on the far side of the room until I found suitable clothes. "Yes I am, now get dressed."

"But you're still in pajamas—"

"At least mine cover my dignity," I quipped jokingly. "And Jacob?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't question me."