"Good Lord, Bella," Jacob breathed. He shifted on the log we had sat on sometime during my story-telling. "Let me make sure I have this straight. You fell in love with Edward, you got in a car crash with his father, lost your memory, he lost his father, you almost got-- uh . . . by Mike, Edward became Superman, you got back with him, and then you started fighting about whether or not you killed his father, and you ended up here with me."

"Yeah. Pretty much that." Jacob chuckled quietly, shaking his head of dark hair. "He just refuses to admit that I did something wrong. I'm not necessarily complaining, but I can't stand the fact that he tries to blame it on himself. He's a better person than he realizes."

"Sounds like a pretty lucky guy," Jacob murmured. "And you sound like a pretty self-conscious girl. You're the only person I know who would fight with someone over whether or not they killed their boyfriend's father, much less not fight for themselves."

I shook my head. "I guess you could call me self-conscious, but it comes with being in love with someone who is more perfect than you thought possible."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the waves roll onto each other like children. After a moment of peace, I felt two warm arms wrap around my torso, hugging me tightly. Jacob had wrapped himself around my body, easily swallowing me in his embrace like a bug. Before I knew it, there were tears slipping onto his russet skin. I hated to cry in front of others. Then they knew that something was wrong, and the questions would start. But with Jacob, that clearly wasn't the case. He only gave reassurances and listened, possibly giving the occasional hug. I needed that sort of thing, not interrogation.

"Thank you," I said as he pulled away. "I guess I needed that."

"I think you did," he said. "But I understand. If I were fighting with someone like you, I'd be sobbing my guts out."

I blushed. "You'd hopefully realize what happened before we started fighting."

"Probably not. I can be dense when I chose to."

I laughed quietly. "So can I. It's just . . ."

"Just what, Bella?" Jacob pressed.

"I just wish he could know that having my memory gone is more of a . . ." I struggled for the right word, "punishment. I killed his father, and he still refuses to admit that it's true. I have no idea of how I can make him see that it's my fault, not his."

He shook his head. "I don't blame him, but I still don't think it's your fault."

"Huh?"

"You don't seem like the type of girl that would intentionally shove her car into her boyfriend's dad. You're not that bad. In fact, you seem kinda nice. I remember when you would come to play with Rebecca, and they would yell at me, but you would always tell them to stop. I guess I admired you for that when I was a kid."

I laughed in spite of my mood. "Thanks, Jacob. You seem pretty tolerable yourself."

We stood up and began walking down the beach.

"I'm sorry for unloading all of that on you," I said.

"It's fine, Bells," he said. "I'm no therapist, but I know that you shouldn't keep all that in there for long."

"I know, but who is there to tell? If I were to tell Edward, he'd only blame all of it and global warming on himself. Charlie is out of the question too, and my mother would positively have a fit if I told her about Edward. Not so much a fit as a tantrum that she didn't have as much time to pick out napkins for our wedding."

"You're getting married?" Jacob exclaimed. He had stopped walking to face me.

I took in a sharp breath. "God, no." I shuddered, frightened by the idea of a wedding being mine. It wasn't that I didn't love Edward. It wasn't that at all. In fact, I wanted to be his wife one day. I had never discussed it with him, because Angela had said that that scared most men to death. She probably had more experience and knowledge in that department, anyway.

But after knowing that my parent's relationship had crumbled to all but dust, making my mother the town's lunatic and my father one of the pitied, I was wary to say those two, fateful words myself.

"I'm not even sure where we are right now," I said. "I've never fought with Edward before. I have no idea of what he's thinking about right now, how he feels about me. Maybe he came to his senses." It probably sounded selfish to say it, but I almost wished he wouldn't.

Jacob's shock eased into a smile. "Bella, you worry too much. I know you guys will be fine. The way you talk about him makes it seem like he's some sort of angel or something."

I giggled and sighed.

"And I don't think that people who love each other that much could been broken apart. I dunno. Just a guess."

I laughed, and he wrapped me in a hug once again. "Thanks, Jacob," I murmured, pushing my nose into his shoulder. The grip he had on my torso was a bit tight. "You sure are a strong one."

He chuckled and released me. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

We walked back to the house, only to see that Charlie and Billy's game still had about an hour left. Personally, I didn't see the excitement in 200 pound guys trying to kill each other in the pursuit of a football.

"So did you kids have a nice time?" Charlie asked, his eyes still glued on the TV.

"Yeah, it was nice," I said. Jacob's arm was draped loosely around my shoulder. "We talked for a while."

"That's good," Charlie muttered, not really caring what I said, just focusing on the game.

"I'll show you my room," Jacob said. He walked down a narrow hallway, and entered a small room. There was a twin bed that took up almost all of the space. Jacob was a tall boy, and I had no idea of how he could maneuver himself in this space.

He laughed at my befuddled expression, and flopped onto the mattress. "Ah," he hummed. "This is the life."

"Certainly. Now tell me, how does such a large boy like you walk in such a small space as this?"

"Practice makes perfect," he answered simply.

"Whatever." I laid down beside him. "Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked suddenly.

"No. I mean, I've dated a couple of girls, but none of them seemed right. Too ditzy, too caught up in their hard knock life." I could hear the skepticism in his voice.

"Do you think you'll ever find someone you really, really love?" I asked. "Someone as special to you as Edward is to me?"

"Yeah." He flashed a goofy grin in my direction. "I will."

--

(Note: this is maybe an hour after the "fateful phone call")

Edward's POV

This was one of the worst things I had ever felt. Knowing that Bella was mad at me - possibly hated me - was grating at my insides, making it hard to breath. I needed to know that I was in her good graces, to know that she still loved me. I had lived once (during the time after the crash) when I thought she didn't know about me at all, only as the ghost that protectively watched her in school. But then I found out that, though she had no memory, she was still able to love me. But when I had broken it off before the crash, those were some of the darkest times I had ever experienced. A few times after my father died, I had even considered suicide. I would never tell Bella that, knowing how she would react.

Or, how she might of, had I not yelled at her. Which I knew now was a stupid move.

But I now knew that ending my own life was sick. Sick and disgusting. To stop one's one heart from beating is more a crime than stopping another's.

"Edward!" my mother called from down the stairs.

I opened the door and walked down the meet her. "Is she coming?" she asked.

I sighed, trying to think of a believable excuse. "No. She, er, had other obligations."

"Oh, alright. I wouldn't want to bother her, anyway." These were the times I loved my mother. Even after losing her husband, she could be so understanding. But there were those times . . . She had taken to staying out late with her friends and having a couple of drinks. Never enough to make her completely tipsy, but enough that I could hear the slur in her words. Which scared me. Having too much alcohol was what killed my father, and now my mom seemed to have no problem chugging it down.

I wanted to tell Bella this, but I wondered what she would think of me after that. Alcoholic parents? Probably not the most appealing thing to the love of my life.

From beside my bed, my cell phone began to belt out the last song Bella had so mischievously changed it to: "I Kissed A Girl" by Katy Perry. I knew we both despised the song, but Bella seemed to find it amusing when it started ringing in the middle of science class.

"Hello?" I grumbled miserably.

"Hey, Edward. How ya doing?" I heard Lauren Mallory giggle. I was ashamed to admit that I had dated this girl, though I would never admit that I did to Bella. Personally, I found her to be annoying.

"Fine, Lauren," I answered, my tone indifferent. Maybe if I seemed apathetic enough, she'd hang up. "You?"

"I'm good, now that you called." I could practically hear her eyelashes fluttering.

"Uh, Lauren, you actually called--"

Before I could finish my protest, she rambled on, "So, do you want to do something? We could go to a movie or, like, go to dinner." Her suggestion made me think of the times when Lauren and I had dated, simply out of my desperation to have friends. I wasn't ever attracted to her. I mean, she was pretty. Anyone could see that. But I didn't feel the same pull to her that I did to Bella; the need, the desire to love her. I hadn't ever told Bella about Lauren and I, but I didn't want her to. Knowing Bella, she would make up a ludicrous flaw that she had, and tell me that I deserved someone better than her. But Bella was far beyond perfect. Not only was she achingly gorgeous, but I couldn't help but love her spurts of sarcasm and wit, combined with her need to help everyone around her. Lauren lacked all of those traits.

I debated on hanging up. "Actually, I have some things at home I need to take care of."

"Oh." She sounded offended that she wasn't my main priority. "Is it that Bella of yours? Having to entertain her or something? I mean, she doesn't seem to do much but hang out with you. Pretty clingy, if you ask me," she babbled. "I'm not that clingy. I'm, like, independent. You know? A strong woman."

"For the record, Bella is not clingy, and I am not entertaining her." Lauren giggled at her little innuendo.

"True love waits, right?" Lauren laughed. "You act like such a virgin, Edward."

Good Lord.

"Right," I said sarcastically. "Because I'll sleep with anything that can walk."

"Naughty boy!" she growled into the phone.

"I was being facetious," I explained. This was getting tedious.

"Huh?"

"Sarcastic." Bella wouldn't have needed me to explain it to her . . .

"Oh, okay. So where is she, anyway?" Lauren demanded.

I sighed, opting for the truth. "We got in a fight."

She seemed to brighten after I said that. "Oh! So, does that mean we're up for dinner? I hear there's this great place in Port Angeles that has some yummy sea food."

"Lauren, no," I said firmly. "This doesn't mean we aren't together. We just had a small disagreement."

"Right," she giggled. "A small disagreement. So are we on?"

"Nope. Bye, Lauren."

"Wait! Let me just give you my number for when you realize what you're missing." She rattled off her cell number, then let me hang up.

After pacing my room for hours upon hours, I finally fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, completely afraid of what Bella would say to me tomorrow.

--

Bella's POV

My fingers shook as I opened the door of my truck, stepping onto the blacktop of our school parking lot. There that fresh, dewy morning smell in the air, misting down on me.

It was about 20 minutes before school began, but I was walking across the parking lot like I was late. Most Monday mornings, I would trudge along, only to speed up when I saw Edward smiling at me. But now, I was already heading toward his car, my apologies already thought out. But I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to face Edward right now, even though I wanted to, and knew I needed to.

What if he told me to never talk to him again, to get out of his face? I couldn't take it if he did that.

But still, I tried to brave and hurried my way toward the gleaming Volvo.

He was just getting out of the door and grabbing his schoolbag from the passenger seat. He turned his head sharply when I called out, "Edward!"

But before I could catch the expression in his eyes, he turned away from me. "Edward Anthony, look at me!"

He spun around sharply. "Yes?" His eyes were cold.

"I'm sorry. For yelling at you, and hanging up on you. And for fighting at all."

To my surprise, he only sighed heavily. "Why do you keep apologizing for everything? Nothing that's happened is your fault."

"Good grief, Edward. It is, don't you see? Were you there when he died? How do you know I didn't intentionally ram into your father?"

"Because he was drunk!"

I backpedaled for a second. "W-What?"

"He was drunk. Intoxicated. Impaired." Edward's fists were clenched now, tight at his side.

I shook my head. Anyone who raised Edward must've been perfect. "It wasn't like that all the time, was it? Just a onetime thing?"

He laughed humorlessly. "No. It happened all the time. Usually once a week. Started when I was seven. You could've gotten killed by my own father, who was drunk. I almost lost you to him, Bella. Do you know what that felt like?"

"Edward, you're lying," I said. "No. That's absurd." I couldn't imagine Edward being raised by someone like that. He was too perfect.

"No, I'm not."

"But, I--"

"You didn't do anything, Bella!" Edward interrupted me. "Contrary to popular belief, you aren't a bad person."

"I yelled at you. That was bad," I argued half-heartedly.

"It was because I hadn't told you about my dad," Edward said. "So you it wasn't your fault, not in the slightest. Now tell me that."

I grimaced. "Tell you what?"

"Tell me that it wasn't your fault." He placed his had gently on my cheek, making me shiver pleasurably. He knew how his touch could affect me, and obviously planned to work with that.

Reluctantly, I muttered, "It wasn't my fault."

"What?" he joked. "I'm sorry, you'll have to say that louder."

I frowned at the smirk that lit his beautiful features. Only a smidgen more loudly, I said, "It wasn't my fault."

Edward took hold of my arms and pressed me gently against the side of his car. He put himself in front of me; actually, he sort of leaned onto me, but in a most enjoyable way. I could feel every muscle in his chest pressing against my body. He skimmed his nose along my jaw line.

"Say it, Bella," he murmured against my neck.

My breathing was heavy, most likely due to his proximity. The words came out shaky. "It, it wasn't my fault . . ."

"Louder, love." His lips seemed to linger on the idea of kissing my neck.

Once again, I sounded completely breathless. "Not my fault."

"Say it like you mean it," Edward ordered. Frankly, it was even a challenge to speak at all when he was so close to me.

With all my might, it finally came out stronger than a whisper. "It wasn't my fault."

"Very good," he chuckled. Tingles erupted throughout my whole body as I finally felt him kiss me.

"Ah . . ." I breathed, my fingers braiding themselves into his hair. He moved his lips from my neck to my ear, playfully biting at it as I had done not so long ago. My hands glided over his shoulders, reveling in their broadness. I loved to finger all of his muscles, and the perfect planes in his chest. My hand twisted to the side of his head, bringing his lips to mine. He placed both of his hands on the side of my face in a familiar movement.

We both pulled away, gasping. I laid my head on Edward's chest. "Sorry for yelling."

"S' okay," he said quietly. He wrapped his arms around me, squishing me even closer.

Behind me, I heard someone mutter, "Slut."

Edward released me as I spun around. "Excuse me?"

There stood - in all their popular glory - Lauren Mallory and Jessica Stanley, with Mike Newton. Both Jessica and Lauren had their arms crossed in a very stereotypical high-school mean-girl look. Lauren was very intimidating in looks. She was beautiful, that was easy enough to see. Her hair was long and blond, impeccably straight and shiny. Every feature of her face was perfect, as was the rest of her statuesque figure. Unlike me, she had curves in the right places, complete with a chest much bigger than mine. She was the ideal woman for someone like Edward: utterly gorgeous and much more confident.

Lauren was the first to speak. "I didn't say anything."

Mike smirked. "Last I heard, Bella was screaming. My name, to be exact."

I gasped. "You know that isn't true, Mike. The only thing I was screaming was for you to get the hell off me."

"Right. You were screaming for that Jacob guy," Mike chuckled.

Edward spun to face me. "Who is Jacob?" he demanded. His beautiful mouth was contorted into a frown.

"Mike was trying to . . . put on the moves on Saturday, and this guy came and pulled him off me. I didn't know him, and I certainly didn't do what Mike was suggesting. We talked for a while, and then Charlie took me to his house yesterday, because Jacob's dad knows Charlie."

"But nothing happened?" he pressed.

"Nothing happened," I assured him.

"I don't think Eddie can say the same," Lauren boasted. She stepped toward Edward.

"Huh?" I looked at him with narrowed eyes.

He sighed, glaring at Lauren as he turned to me. "Lauren and I . . . well, we dated in our freshman year, right when I first moved here. But trust me, Bella, it's not like we still have anything going like Lauren said. Yes, she called me, but we have nothing happening between us."

"Well, okay . . . If you're sure nothing is going on between you two." I didn't like the idea of knowing that Edward had once been Lauren's, his lips once kissed by hers.

"Nothing."

I gave him a look that said, We'll discuss this later.

"Was there something you wanted to talk about?" I asked, turning back to the three in front of us.

"No," Lauren said in her sickeningly sweet voice. "Come on, guys. We should probably let Eddie get back to entertaining Bella." She winked at him, and walked away. I noticed the way her hips seemed to sashay more as she trotted off.

Wait-- entertaining Bella? What the heck was that about?

"You dated Lauren?" I practically screamed.

"Yes," Edward murmured, looking at his feet. "I didn't love her, just so you know. I was the new kid, and would take any attention I could get. I was desperate to make friends. And Lauren seemed welcoming enough, so I took her on a few dates."

"I hope I don't sound nosy asking this, but why did you split?" I asked.

"About half-way through sophomore year, I decided that I really wasn't feeling like I thought I should. You know, drowning in love, my heart about to burst, all that nonsense. I just didn't feel right being with Lauren."

"Ah," I murmured in assent. "How did she take it?"

"I never knew she had such a colorful vocabulary," he chuckled. "And she screamed it, too. Not the most pleasant thing I've experienced, I'll say that."

I laughed. "Surprisingly enough, I can imagine that. But she seems so . . . nice to you now. Overly-friendly, if you please."

He looked into the distance. "I suppose."

I grabbed his hand. "Let's go. School's about to start."