Author's note: Another day, another update!

Chapter six

"I'm mortified to be associated with you right now!"

To say Jacob was less than impressed by the state of my car was an understatement. It was the day after it had gone kaput and Jacob had collected me on his finally finished motorbike to take me to Port Angeles. At first, I'd been terrified, but then I gave in to the exhilaration and found the journey to be rather enjoyable. After the morning's bike ride and the Porsche ride the night before, I started to hope he wouldn't be able to fix my vehicle.

Upon lifting the bonnet to check the engine, he'd actually laughed-laughed! I couldn't say I shared his amusement at the situation. With many grumbles and murmurings about poor upkeep and so on, he evaluated and started working his magic on my car. I can't say I thought the vehicle deserved such attention. If I had the money, it would be on the first tow truck to scrapsville. I didn't take in much of what Jacob said as he worked, mainly because I didn't understand it. I knew he was perfectly aware of this, so could only assume he did it to mock me.

"So, why didn't you just call my cell?" he asked, his voice muffled by the bonnet between us.

"My phone died," I explained, lounging on the front seats.

"Isabella strikes again!" he laughed and I poked my tongue out at him, despite the fact he wouldn't see. It made me feel better, at least. "So, how'd you manage to get home?"

Despite my determined stance the night before, I wasn't quite sure what to say. Then I wondered if the truth might actually warm him to Alice. There was only one way to find out. "I got a ride...with Alice."

The absence of sound was his reply. His face peered from behind the bonnet and the expression was carefully neutral. "Alice who?"

"Brandon," I replied, bracing myself for whatever reaction I might face. He simply nodded curtly, the tightening of his jaw revealing his displeasure, before going back to his work. So far, so good, I thought. It was time to really test the waters. "I was gonna use the payphone to get your number from Dad, but she told me to save my money. Their house is amazing, by the way."

There was a bang, before Jacob's head flew into view once more. "Wait, what? You mean you went to their house?"

"Yeah."

"After I warned you?" He came striding round the side of the car to stand before me. "You went to the house of those people? How stupid can you be?"

"They're not random strangers, Jake," I said, irritated at being admonished by someone younger than me, especially when it was for no apparent reason. "I know Alice pretty well."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "How well?" he demanded.

I stood, ready to hold my ground. "We hang out on lunch breaks-have done for the past few weeks, actually. The dress shop is right by the bookstore, so it makes sense. She's a lot nicer than you make her out to be."

"Oh, I'm sure she puts on an adorable front, Bella," he mocked, disdain oozing between each syllable. "But you have no idea what she's really like."

"Neither do you!" I retorted, seriously starting to get pissed off with his attitude. "You said yourself you've never actually met her, so how can you judge what kind of person she is?"

"I don't need coffee breaks with her to know what she is!" he growled and the fury on his face made me consider a retreating step. Pig-headedness forced me to remain still. Jesus Christ, what was his problem?

"What is she, then?" I shot back.

"She's-" he stopped himself and hints of an internal struggle were evident in his features. He quickly gained his composure by taking in a deep breath, but the anger was still present. "She's not..." he continued, seeming to have difficulty finding the right words. "She's not...right."

I stared at him, wide eyed in disbelief. Was I really hearing this? After all the bullying I had defended him against when we were kids-name calling and ridiculous prejudices from some of the more elitist brats of the town-this was how he reacted to an oddball as an adult?

"Oh my God!" I exclaimed, actually a little disgusted with my friend at that point. "What, she doesn't fit into one of your little cliques? Sure, she's a little different, but that doesn't make her a bad person."

"It's not like that, Bella," he said, defensively. "I can't explain it to you right now, but they're not the people you think they are. I've tried warning you and you need to listen."

"Give me a reason." It was my turn to cross my arms. "Until you provide one, I'm not heeding any warnings."

"I...I can't," he replied, the hesitation present once more and he looked defeated. He was hiding something, but why wouldn't he tell me? He clearly wanted to, if the hints he kept dropping were anything to go by. "It's not my place to say."

"Oh, but you can just blacken their name to everybody?"

"It's complicated," he insisted, his eyes almost begging me to understand.

To Hell with this bullshit! "So's fixing a car. I'd better leave you to it!"

I stormed off, ignoring the calls of my name. I refused to stand there and let him bad mouth a friend, especially if he couldn't even tell me why. He'd alluded to something more going on, but, at that moment, I was too pissed to care. With no idea of where to go, my feet simply kept pacing until my wrath had subsided. I ended up in a small park, deserted save for a mom and her toddler son occupying one of the swings. I sat on one of the benches and stewed for a while. As I started to assess our angry conversation, I wondered if maybe I'd been too impetuous. He must have a valid reason for being unable to reveal the motive behind his disapproval, but his reprimanding tone had rubbed me the wrong way. There was a small section of my brain-located right at the back-that grew curious about his comments.

"I don't need coffee breaks with her to know what she is!"

"She's not...right."

"They're not the people you think they are."

Then who were they? I wasn't an idiot or naive, but I just couldn't believe sweet, caring, helpful Alice was anything other than I knew her to be. Was it all a ruse? Charlie had no problem with her, I hadn't heard a word of gossip from anyone since moving back here and, as far as I knew, Jacob was the only person to have an issue. Then I realised he hadn't just been talking about Alice. He'd said they, which meant he was also referring to Carlisle and Jasper. Perhaps it was a feud between the two families. A sickening thought occurred to me; what if it was a racial thing? I desperately hoped the Cullens weren't guilty of racism, or the Blacks, for that matter. It was then that I decided to grill my dad for more information. I reckoned my curiosity could be excused after my friend's angry display that afternoon.

It had been almost an hour since I left Jake and when I returned, I found the car alone, a note tucked behind one of the windshield wipers. I plucked the piece of paper out and began to read.

Bella,

The car's fixed. I left the keys at the bookstore.

So brief. So cold. Was he that angry at me, or just feeling bad? Jake had never been the most articulate of people. I screwed up the note and shoved it into the pocket of my jeans, knowing I'd do nothing but dwell on it for the rest of the day. After retrieving my keys from Jerry and unlocking the driver door, I climbed in and simply sat there for several minutes, staring blankly ahead. Jake and I had never fought before, not like this. Would it blow over or become an either/or situation? I didn't want to have to choose between friends. Resentment flared at the thought of Jacob making me do so and, before the emotion could engulf me, I started the engine, hoping the task of driving home would occupy my thoughts.

000

"Here," said Charlie as he entered the kitchen that evening. "I got you something."

I turned to see him place a small bag on the table. Curious, I abandoned the chicken I was currently cutting into cubes and rinsed my hands, before inspecting the contents. I pulled out a small box, the lid emblazoned with the picture of a mobile phone.

"Oh, Dad," I began, ready to reprimand him for splashing out on me.

"Just don't lose or break it," he ordered, wagging a finger at me. "I don't suppose you have any copies of the numbers you had on your old one?"

I shook my head.

"Thought as much. I've got most of the important ones you'll need, but any from Phoenix-besides your mom, of course-you'll have to get whenever you go back there."

I nodded, studying the picture on the box. It was a nice enough model, neither flashy, nor cheap and I was grateful to him for buying it.

"What's up?" he asked, his brow creasing. "Don't like it?"

"Huh?" I murmured, looking up at him. "Oh, no, it's great. Thanks, Dad."

"Then what's wrong? You're looking kinda glum, Bells."

My eyes returned to the box and I bit my lip. With a deep breath, I explained my somewhat difficult day. "Jake and I had a fight. It was about the Cullens."

The frown on Charlie's face deepened. I took his silence as permission to continue.

"It started out alright-he asked how I got home last night and I said Alice gave me ride. But then, when I told him I'd gone to her house, he went ballistic. Started saying that she wasn't right, that they're not who I think they are. I stormed off after that and, when I went back, he'd already gone. I just don't get it! What is his problem? Why is he so mad at me for being friends with her?"

"Look, Bells," Charlie sighed, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "You're not the first Swan to have an argument with a Black about the Cullens."

"I'm not?" I asked, sitting opposite him.

"No," he replied. "Billy and I had our fair share of spats about it when they first moved here. We even stopped talking for a while. A few of the tribes people had started boycotting the hospital when Carlisle first started working there and I called Billy on it. He refused to say much about it and my reaction was pretty similar to yours. Eventually, we agreed to disagree and decided it wasn't worth ending a friendship over, so we haven't spoken about it since."

I remained quiet as I considered this new information. It surprised me to learn that Charlie and Billy had ever had a fight; they seemed as close as brothers sometimes. Hearing this lessened my worry about my argument with Jacob. Hopefully the outcome of our dispute would be the same as theirs and we'd be able to move on from it. Then again, Charlie and Billy had a maturity that Jake and I had yet to acquire, so maybe ours wouldn't end so amicably.

"Give the boy a few days," Charlie continued, as though reading my thoughts. "He'll come around." He reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. Charlie's "sensitive" moments were few and far between, but they were nice to witness every once in a while. "Just don't let him influence your friendship with Alice. Just because he doesn't like her, doesn't mean you can't."

Looking at the hand covering mine, I smiled. "Thanks, Dad," I said, truly grateful to him for listening.

"So what's for dinner?" he asked and I rolled my eyes.

000

The next day, I decided I needed a break from it all by spending time with Angela. It was a spur of the moment decision and, as I no longer had her number, was forced to simply drive to her place and hope she was free. It seemed luck felt like finally gracing me with its presence as she was more than happy to accept my request.

I was currently trying to work out exactly how her new video camera worked, but to no avail. Ange found it highly amusing, of course. I swore, one day I would find something I was better at than everyone else. After a quick demonstration, I finally got it and decided to punish my shy friend for her mockery by making her the star of my new documentary.

"It's called Bella and Angela's Happy Fun Time!" I declared, chasing her around her driveway. "So, how does it feel to be the other side of the camera?"

"Cut it out," she cried, between laughter.

"The quality's amazing on this thing," I commented. "Hey, we could make our own Blair Witch!"

"Yeah," she agreed, batting me away. "And you could be the witch."

I gave a mock gasp of insult. "For that," I threatened. "This is going on YouTube."

She poked her tongue out at me as we started strolling into town. We chose to keep it a local outing and I was glad-I needed to keep my fuel costs down. The weather was a little schizophrenic that day, unsure whether to be mild and dry or cold and wet, occasionally settling for misty drizzle. It wasn't a big issue for us, though; Angela had spent most of her life in the wet conditions and I was getting used to it by now. I still lived in hope that Forks was due at least one solid week of sunlight soon-it was August, after all!

"So, what's with the camera?" I asked, careful not to bump it against my hip too hard as the hand clutching it dangled at my side.

"I decided to move into other areas of visual media," she explained, excitement shining in her eyes. "I'm experimenting with moving pictures."

"I see. Will any of it be part of the exhibition?"

"No, that's purely photography. Oh, by the way, they've set a date for it-October twelfth, just over two months away."

"Cool," I grinned. "Better get dress shopping, then."

"Me too," Angela concurred, before changing the topic completely. "Did you see the news this morning?"

I shook my head.

"There was another attack yesterday," she grimaced. "God, it was horrible!"

"As bad as the others?"

"Yup," she confirmed, nodding grimly. "They're moving out of Seattle, though; this one happened on Bainbridge Island."

That was the third murder since the first a few weeks back and they showed no sign of stopping. The location of this latest crime worried me. Moving from Seattle to Bainbridge Island meant the perpetrator was getting closer. This wasn't going to put Charlie in a good mood. A shiver ran up my spine and I hastily decided to change the subject.

"How much longer will you be in Forks?"

She considered for a moment before answering. "A few more weeks, I think. I've gotta go back a week early-my friends have organised a back-to-university activity week."

"Oh, really? What sort of activities are they doing?"

"Dancing and drinking," she replied with a smile.

"Sounds like my kind of week," I laughed.

"What about you? When do you head back to Phoenix?"

"Um, about the same, I think," I lied. I knew it was bad, but I still hadn't got round to admitting my expulsion from college to Angela yet. I was kind of hoping I would never have to, although, with my friend's acuity, I realised that was a long shot. We'd talked briefly about my time in Arizona, but I hadn't gone into great detail and she was only aware of about half of what had happened. She knew not to push, though and I loved her for that.

"Are you still looking to go into teaching?" she queried and I wondered if she had decided to push this time.

"I think so," I replied. "But we'll see how it goes-gotta pass the year, first." I joked, almost wishing we had continued to talk about the murders. "And, if I don't," I continued, deciding to take the conversation into my own hands. I turned the camera back on and pointed the lens right in Angela's face. "'I can always make like David Gest and build a career out of namedropping you to every person I meet!"

"Not again," she sighed, smiling despite her discomfort. I didn't need psychic powers to know this was all going to be deleted the moment she got home.

We continued chatting and-in my case-messing about as we reached town. We'd had no specific plans for when we got here, other than having lunch. Angela kept looking over at me and laughing as I filmed our journey, playing with the camera like a child with a new toy. Finding the zoom button was a particular highlight of the day and I proceeded to annoy my friend by zooming in and out of her face, her swatting hands doing little to deter me.

"I knew showing you that was a mistake," she chuckled.

"Hey, Spielberg," I rejoined. "You're not the only one with directorial ambitions, you know. This filming lark is pretty fun."

"For you, perhaps," she muttered. "Christ, would you get another hobby, already?" she asked, exasperated as I started circling her.

"Nope," I said, between giggles. "This is way too much fun. You know, the HD really brings out the blush on your face."

"Bella!" she whined.

The next few moments were a blur as everything happened at once. One minute, Angela and I were crossing the road, the next I felt myself flying towards the ground amidst the shriek of tyres and screams. A flash of white blinded my vision, before everything went black. Upon the return of my eyesight, I was greeted by a pair of dark eyes brimming with concern. I looked around me in a daze, trying to recall what had landed me in this position. Eventually, my vision cleared and I found myself lying in the middle of the street, surrounded by spectators. The world tilted as I was gently levered into a sitting position and the man beside me was saying something, but I couldn't focus on his words as my eyes fell on the scene ahead. Angela was lying on the road, cradled by a man in a black coat. Beside the pair was a car with a cracked windshield. My heart stopped.

"Oh my God, Angela!" I cried, trying to scramble to my feet.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy," urged the person beside me, dodging the swatting of my arms as he attempted to restrain me.

"Let go...I need..." Panic impeded my speech. I needed to get to Angela and explaining this just wasted more time.

"You hit your head pretty hard, you need a-"

I was about to swing for him again when I saw movement from the two lying on the ground. The arms of the man slowly unwound themselves from around Angela's form and her head starting moving from side to side, probably wondering the same thing I had moments ago. A couple of people were stood around them and one-a blonde teenage boy-reached out for Angela's hand to slowly help her sit up. She looked fine, no blood as far as I could see, although her glasses were missing. What I assumed to be the boy's mother offered help to the man, but he politely declined with a wave of his hand. Was he crazy? He'd just been hit by a car! He had no difficulty sitting up and the identity of the man was revealed to be none other than Carlisle Cullen. Although I was surprised to see him, his presence held little sway on my senses this time as concern for my friend overwhelmed me. Her hand cradled her right temple and my panic surged once again. This time, the man beside me decided to help rather than restrain and I advanced towards the crash site, stumbling a little.

Having thanked the boy, Carlisle was assessing Angela's injuries. From a closer viewpoint, I still couldn't see any blood and I heard her mumble a few words about a headache, but nothing more serious. Carlisle started speaking then, but I had trouble focusing on his words, which annoyed me as I wanted to know if she was okay. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a pair of red rimmed glasses lying on the ground and bent to retrieve them, recognising them as Angela's. As I came back up, the street span and I fell backwards, but was caught before I suffered another blow to the head I could ill afford.

Lowered carefully to sit on the ground once more, it was my turn for an assessment from the doctor.

"Isabella," Carlisle called softly. "Isabella, can you hear me?"

I nodded as my surroundings regained their immobility. Cool fingertips touched each cheekbone and eyebrow in turn to gently widen my eyes as his studied them. I had never been this close to him before and noticed a dark ring starting to form around his tawny irises. My own study was interrupted when he started asking questions.

"Can you tell me your name?"

It took a moment to register the question. "Bella Swan," I replied.

"Good. And where are you?"

"Um, Forks...in town."

"Okay. Do you know what happened?"

"I...um...I don't know," I frowned, attempting to recollect the day's events. It was hard. I remembered walking with Angela, annoying her with the camera, crossing the road...

"The camera!" I gasped and must have shouted it out as several people turned to face me. I lifted the hand that had been carrying it, which was obviously empty, before searching the ground for it. I couldn't remember if I was still filming when the accident occurred. Had the camera caught it? Was it still working? I hoped so, for Angela's sake; it was an expensive piece of equipment.

The man who had first helped me up walked over to us, camera in tow. My dislike for him was lessened considerably. Carlisle took it and thanked the guy, before turning back to me. "Is this it?" he asked.

I nodded and he handed it over to me. I saw that Angela's glasses were still in my hand and looked over Carlisle's shoulder to see her still sat in the same place. In the distance, I heard a siren and realised it belonged to a police car. I let out an involuntary groan and worry immediately flooded Carlisle's face.

"What is it, are you hurt?"

I shook my head. "No," I clarified. "But, if that's my dad coming, the driver of that car will be."

As the cruiser pulled up, my worst fears were thankfully unrealised. I didn't recognise the two officers as they exited the vehicle. After a last look at me to check I'd be okay, Carlisle walked over to apprise them of the situation. My last attempt at walking hadn't gone so well, so I decided to crawl over to where Angela was sat.

"Are you alright?" I asked, sitting beside her and handing over her glasses.

"My head's pounding," she replied, sliding the frames onto her nose. "What happened?"

"Well, I think you were hit by that car," I said, pointing to the red vehicle, where the owner was currently being interviewed by the two policemen. "And I was hit by the pavement. How do you feel, besides the headache?"

"Fine, I think. It just happened so fast, I can't really remember any of it. If I was in a collision, shouldn't I feel worse?"

She had a point, there. My eyes swivelled to fall on Carlisle, still stood with the officers and it was only then that I started to notice just how unaffected he seemed to be. He'd just landed on the windshield of a car, yet he looked as calm and collected as ever, with the only hint of his accident being uncharacteristically dishevelled hair. I would have pondered it more, but the throbbing of my head was starting to take full effect.

"Hey," Angela murmured, regaining my attention. She was pointing to the camera in my lap. "The light's still on. Do you think it would've caught what happened?"

I fumbled for the switch to stop filming and handed it over, deciding she'd have more luck getting it to replay than I would. It took her a minute, but she eventually rewound to the moment I had started circling her. Turning up the volume, we watched the whole thing unfold on the tiny screen. Angela was stepping off the sidewalk and I heard a sound I hadn't at the time-the screech of tyres. We were almost halfway across the road when, in the corner of the screen, I saw the red car careening towards us and swerving all over the place. It was about to hit Angela, when everything span and I assumed that was the moment I fell to the ground. But something had caught my eye just before that. It was so fast I wasn't entirely sure I had actually seen it until I rewound the footage to re-watch. It was a dark blur of motion that zoomed towards us and passed within inches of the screen before the car struck.

"What it is?" Angela queried, but I was unable to answer because one of the officers infuriatingly chose that moment to approach. He asked us how we were feeling and said we'd be taken to the hospital for a check up as soon as they were done talking to the driver. As he walked away, Angela lowered her glasses to rub her eyes, before running a hand through her hair. "I'd better call my mom," she commented and proceeded to rummage through her bag.

I left her to it and returned my attention to the camera. I was about to ask how to slow the footage down, but she was already talking on the phone. I studied the buttons on the device and soon found the one required. My eyes were glued to the screen, drinking in every detail, headache temporarily forgotten. The blur wasn't a whole lot clearer, but, as it came closer and closer to the lens, I started to make out certain details; nothing crystal clear, but enough to discern a face. I'd know that pale skin and blonde mane anywhere. Then I wondered where he had suddenly appeared from. I didn't remember him anywhere near us at all. I rewound the footage, going even further back this time. We had just turned onto the street and I pressed pause to scrutinise our surroundings. It took me a while. Carlisle could blend into the background surprisingly well. Eventually, I spotted him and pushed play. I cursed my unsteady filming hand; it was making my task very difficult. He was stood right at the other end of the street and I guessed he was looking into a shop window. I lost sight of him when my circling of Angela started, but got one last glimpse before we started to cross the road. He hadn't moved. For the fourth time, I watched his blurred form race towards us and suddenly noted the timer in the top left hand corner. Yet another rewind to when we were crossing the road and, instead of watching the scene unfold, I watched the timer. Just over four seconds elapsed between stepping off the pavement and Angela being hit by the car. I double checked to be sure.

I stared at the screen without really focusing on it. My mind raced. Just how in the Hell of it all could someone run from one end of the street to another so quickly? And that time included him turning and realising what was happening. I doubted even Olympic athletes could move that fast. I stole a cautious glance in Carlisle's direction as he was finishing his conversation with the officer. As though sensing my attention, his eyes turned to meet mine.

It was probably a good thing my trouser pocket started to ring at that moment. I pulled out the phone, seeing the word Dad flash on the screen. Pushing the answer button, I lifted the phone to my ear.

"Bella?" Charlie's panicked voice filtered through the receiver and my headache re-emerged.

I explained the situation as best I could between his constant questions. Apparently, upon hearing my name, one of the officers at the scene had called the Chief to let him know his daughter had been in an accident. After reaching my tolerance level of fatherly concern, I told him to pick me up from the hospital later and signed off. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate the worry, I just didn't feel in a fit state to handle the inevitable rants that would follow.

"Yeah, my mom did nothing for my head, either," said Angela. Humour must have meant she was feeling a little better. That didn't mean my impatience to get to the hospital was decreasing, though. She may have looked fine on the outside, but who knew what internal damage might have been done?

Carlisle and one of the officers approached us. "Dr Cullen here has offered to give you girls a ride to the hospital," the officer explained. "That okay with you?"

Angela nodded as I tried not to stare too blatantly at the doctor. I mumbled my thanks as Carlisle helped me to my feet, unable to look him in the eyes. So many things were confusing me at that point, it was rather overwhelming. I sat in the back of his car, with Angela's head resting on my shoulder as he drove. Although certain oddities of the situation were plaguing my mind with questions, I felt a tremendous surge of gratitude towards the mysterious man who had saved my friend's life. I didn't know how, but, because of him, what could have been a fatal accident, turned out to be a minor one and I didn't want to jinx our luck by ungratefully dwelling on what could have been.

Yes, luck had definitely graced me with its presence that day.

A/N: Not sure why, but I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. I achieved everything I planned to story wise, but it just doesn't feel as though it flows as well as it should. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. R & R to let me know what you think