note - this chapter is dedicated to Godsgurl4146 because she reviewed i think it was 3 chapters?
"Mike, get off of me!" I screeched. In pure fright, tears were gathering in my eyes.
"No," he growled against the skin of my shoulder.
"Please, Mike, please," I begged.
He stopped for a moment. Hallelujah! "Oh," he laughed. "You want more?" Crap.
As his hands tugged at the bottom of my shirt, I felt the first tear fall. "Stop!" My body sagged. I was giving up. There was nothing I could do this time, no one to save me.
"Hey!" someone shouted. The voice was deep, and kind of husky. Mike froze. "I think she said stop, last I checked."
When I was able to peek around Mike, I saw a tall, lanky boy. He looked to be of the Quiluete tribe, with dark, russet skin. His expression was stern, his gaze fixed on Mike's quivering form, though he refused to take his arms off of me.
"Is this your friend, or something, Bella?" he asked the boy.
I shook my head. "No. I don't know him."
The boy turned to me, his grimace melting into a bright smile. I couldn't help but grin back. "I'm Jacob. Jacob Black." He held out his hand for me to shake. Mike slapped it away.
"I'm Bella," I whispered, glancing at Mike.
"Pleased to meet you," he said. "You, however," he turned to Mike. "I'm not so sure about."
"Like I care what you think, you little punk." Mike smirked, obviously pleased with his supposed wit.
"I don't want your approval. But you should get hers before you make a move. Usually when a woman says stop, they mean stop. You don't treat a woman like that."
"She wanted me," Mike boasted.
I snorted.
"Quiet, Bella," he ordered.
"Did you not hear what I just said?" Jacob demanded. "You shouldn't treat a lady like that."
"Well, how do you care for them?" Mike shot back.
"By taking her away from you." He grabbed my hand, pulling me down the hall. To me, he said quietly, "I'm sorry. But I don't want to see someone hurt like that. Even someone I don't know. Are you with someone? Do you need a ride? I came with a friend, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind you riding with us."
"No, no. I came with a someone. She can give me a ride back. In fact, I should go back in there. I've been out here a while."
He grimaced. "What if that boy comes back?"
"Do you mean me?" Mike yelled, running down the hall after us.
"Yeah, you," Jacob grunted.
"Well, she's my girl," he defended.
"I am not your girl, Mike. You know I'm happily dating Edward," I growled.
"Then why isn't he here?" Mike retorted.
"I came with Angela."
"I thinks it's because he broke up with you."
"No! That didn't happen."
He moved forward, reaching out to touch my face. "Don't deny it, Bella. We both know you're a girl with a broken heart. Besides, all he wanted was to get you in bed."
My head snapped upward, along with my hand. On the right side of his face, there was a large red mark in the shape of my hand. To be perfectly honest, I was probably more surprised than him. I was generally not a violent person at all, and I had just slapped Mike Newton. On the face.
"I hate you," I spat. "Good-bye, Mike."
"Owie," he whimpered, rubbing his face.
I snickered, and began to walk towards the room where Angela sat.
"Wait!" I heard Jacob call. He grabbed my arm again, spinning me around.
"Yes?" I was growing impatient. All I wanted was to be in Edward's arms at the moment, not being rescued from Mike's.
"Tell me your last name. I think I know you from somewhere."
"Swan. And I'm sure I don't know you."
"Hmm. You wouldn't happen to know Charlie Swan, would you?"
"He's my father," I replied.
"Then I do know you," he chirped.
"From where?"
"Your father and mine go fishing sometimes. You used to play with my sisters in the summer. Don't you remember me?" he asked.
I shook my head. "I'm sorry, but I don't." There was probably a reason. That reason being the crash.
He frowned again. "Alright. Well, maybe I'll see you sometime. And try to stay away from that Mike guy, okay?"
"I can take care of myself, thank you very much," I defended.
He snorted. "So why did I have to pull that piece of vermin off you?"
"Goodbye, Jacob," I said, walking away.
"Bye, Bella."
--
"So, do I really want to know what took you so long to get back from the bathroom?" Angela asked, tossing her soda into the trash. The great thing about Angela was that if you didn't want to open up about everything, she wouldn't force you to.
"No," I said quietly.
We closed the subject after that.
The rest of our car ride was silent, except for the music Angela had put on. It wasn't usually something I would listen to, but it was calming. The reeds and brass have been weaving, leading into a single note, I heard Norah Jones sing. Her voice was small, but had a blues rhythm and undertone to it that made it irresistible. At one point, we both hummed to the gentle melody.
We pulled up to Charlie's house, sharing good-byes until next time.
"Thanks, Ang," I said, waving lightly.
"Bye, Bella."
"The mor-- Edward called," Charlie said as I walked in the door.
I jumped toward the phone.
"Hello, Masen residence," I heard Edward answer politely.
"Greetings, Mr. Masen," I purred.
"Hello, Ms. Swan," he laughed, his tone changing drastically.
"Charlie said you called earlier."
He hesitated. "Yeah."
"Well, spit it out, Edward."
"I told you she'd know," he said quickly.
"Huh?"
"My mother," he clarified. "I told you she'd know you were here."
"Oh."
"Yes. And she told me she'd like to meet you. Would you be willing to come over tomorrow afternoon?"
Wait-- I wasn't so sure if I really wanted to meet Edward's mother or not. It wasn't that I doubted she was as wonderful as her son, but simply the idea that she wouldn't like me. What if she thought I wasn't pretty enough for her god-like son? What if she thought I wasn't smart enough? The thousands of possibilities terrified me. Not being approved of by one of the most important people in Edward's life was an awful prospect.
"Bella, you still there?" Edward asked.
"Yeah, I'm here. I'm not sure, Edward. I just . . . I can't. What if she doesn't like me?"
To my surprise, he actually began to laugh. "You are truly absurd, love. Why wouldn't she like you?"
"Well, there's--"
"Bella, shut up," he ordered. "She will love you. I'm sure of it. You've met them before, but you don't remember it. She liked you enough then, so why wouldn't she now?"
"I killed her husband."
Edward sucked in a breath. "You didn't. You didn't mean to crash into him. It's not your fault."
"Yes, it is."
"As I said previously, shut up. You know that isn't true."
"But it is!" I argued. "I did that. I killed him, Edward. I killed him. Don't deny it, because I know that you know just how true it is."
"God, Bella. You need to stop with layering the guilt onto yourself, alright? It's not your fault."
"It is."
"Is not."
"Is too."
"Bella, stop!"
"Why should I?"
I heard him sigh. "For the sake of my sanity, please. You didn't kill my father."
"I did!"
"Bella, you're being stupid."
"What?" I gasped. Though it wasn't the biggest insult I had ever gotten, Edward never said those kinds of things.
"You know you didn't do it," he continued. "You're just being too damn stubborn to realize it."
"I did kill him, and that's that."
I slammed the phone onto the receiver. I was panting from shouting, and tears were gathering quickly in my lies. I never fought with Edward. Never. We hadn't even so much fought over what we would have for breakfast. We were willing to sacrifice for the other, and willing to accept new ideas.
But now . . . I knew what I had done. Why couldn't Edward accept it? He should be yelling at me, saying he wants me to curl into the corner to shrivel up and die. I should be on my knees, groveling like a starving man for his forgiveness. But Edward wasn't the type of person who would do that, whether or not he hated the person at all. But I deserved every bit of hate he possessed and then some. I killed his own father, the man who would lead him though life with a smile. I took that away from him, and he chose not to acknowledge it.
Had this happened to someone else, it wouldn't have been this way. If, for instance, I dated Tyler Crowley, he would've left a long time ago, and rightfully so. But this was Edward. He didn't like to see others suffering.
"Bella, you okay?" Charlie called from his post in front of the TV.
I realized that I had been sobbing quietly. "Yeah, dad. I'm fine." I headed up the doors, shutting the door behind me. The shock of knowing that Edward was angry with me was turning the sobs into near hysterics. By the end of the hour, every drop of salt water in my body was on my pillow. I was haunted by a sense of déjà vu.
After hours of self-pity and shame, I finally slipped into the least enjoyable sleep of my life.
I awoke to the sun shining brightly through the window. The sun never shown in Forks. It was something I had come to peace with a long time ago.
"Bella, time to wake up!" Charlie yelled from the bottom of the steps. When I turned to look at my clock, I saw that it was 11:30.
"Good grief," I muttered. I knew I could sleep in late, but this was extreme, even for me.
I wandered down the stairs in search of chemically-enhanced and dangerously sugary cereal. It kept my stomach from growling, but I didn't taste any of it. I was too busy thinking of Edward.
"So, Bells," Charlie said, walking in the door. "I was thinking we could head down to La Push, and see Billy Black. You wouldn't remember him, but he also has a son named Jacob. He's about your age, maybe a year younger. Great kid."
"Alright," I said robotically, my tone painfully flat.
"There's a game at 1:00, so we'll head over in a while." He walked out of the room, and back by the TV.
I got dressed in a daze, my mind fuzzy and completely dead. Tears continued to leak onto my cheek. I felt like a cinder block, heavy and uncoordinated.
We drove down to La Push in Charlie's cruiser. He attempted to make small talk at a few points, probably sensing I was less than enthusiastic that morning, but they all fell flat. Asking me what my favorite color was wouldn't get my mind off Edward's yelling.
A grimace stayed on my lips until I saw Jacob waving at me from the outside of a small house. He was pushing the wheelchair of an old man.
"Hey, Bella!" he said cheerfully, smiling like the sun had come to visit.
"Hi, Jacob," I murmured.
"You know Jacob?" Charlie asked. He stood beside the old man.
Both Jacob and I looked down at our feet. We shared a silent exchange that telling about Mike was out of the question.
"Yeah," I muttered. "We met yesterday at the movie theater."
"Oh!" Charlie smiled. "That's great. You two will get along great. Billy and I are gonna go watch the game, but if you guys want to walk on the beach, that's fine with me. You, Billy?"
"Sounds fine," Billy agreed. He was wheeled into the house by Charlie.
"So . . ."
"How are you doing?" Jacob asked, flashing me another smile.
I hesitated, then answered, "Okay."
He frowned. "Really? Doesn't seem like it to me."
I looked up at him. The deep brown of his eyes seemed to know exactly what mine said. "No, I'm fine." I began walking towards the beach.
"Because everyone who is perfectly normal has tears on their face."
I gasped and looked away. Only then did I realize that my shirt was becoming wet from the excess water in my eyes. "I'm not crying," I argued. "I have something--"
"In your eye?" Jacob offered. He looked very amused, but not in a way that offended me.
"Yes." I stomped off into the sand. The tiny grains tickled the skin on my feet, and the water swished onto my ankles. The salt and humidity that surrounded me was calming.
"Look, Bells, I didn't mean to offend you, because I know you're sad. You don't have to tell me why, just don't lie to me."
I turned back to face him, fully aware that my cheeks were wet again. "I'm not sure if I want to talk about it . . ."
"Then we don't have to."
"But I need to." I paused and then added, "I need to know that someone besides me really cares at all."
"Shoot," Jacob said.
I took a deep breath and started. "I'll start from the beginning."