A/N: Thanks for reading. I don't have a certain schedule for posting but I will at least post once a week. :-) The fact that a few of you that reviewed/alerted for this story came over from Awake My Soul makes me teary.

Thanks Softragoo for the never ending love and support.

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight.

Chapter Two

I looked at my reflection and smiled for the first time in ages. The tips of my hair ended at my shoulders and I had asked for bangs. Bangs were apparently a really big deal because Betty had asked me if I was sure at least five times before she took the scissors to my forehead. She told me that if I wanted to look normal, I'd have to buy a curling iron or a straightener so that I could train my bangs to sit flat. Right now they were bunched up along my hairline and looking downright stupid. I decided to go with the headband until I got a straightener.

Esme had liked my hair. She told me that it framed my face and made me look older. Older, younger, I didn't care as long as I looked different. It wasn't about hiding from my past or keeping a low profile. It was about reclaiming my self.

On the lower floor of my apartment building, there were four apartments. Down the hall, on the opposite side, was Rose, who had slipped me the babysitting note on my first night. Next to her was a man whom I assumed was the scary-grey-overalls guy. When I had moved in, the apartment next door was empty until a few nights ago. A big man with tanned skin and a chest bigger than mine had moved in. He liked his music and he liked it loud. I wasn't complaining since I lacked my own radio, but he liked to play it at all hours of the night.

The night he had moved in, Rose had beat on his door until two in the morning, screaming about his music keeping her kids awake. He ignored her protests. Now, he was enjoying some Metallica—The Black Album. One of my favorites.

As I separated my laundry into piles on my bed, I sang along to Enter Sandman and shook my hips to the beat. I could understand Rose's argument but man, it was nice to have music. Silently, I wondered if he took requests. I could slip him a CD under the door, and hope that he took the hint.

After my laundry was separated, I pulled the basket to my chest and stood at the door. Deep cleansing breaths followed and I gathered up the nerve to exit my safe apartment. It was now livable, after I'd scrubbed every surface and set mouse traps. I heard one go off in the middle of the night and I hadn't built up the courage to go looking for the poor thing. As much as I wanted the mice gone, I couldn't bear to see one with its head all squished like a pumpkin that had taken a plunge off a three story building. I'd just have to wait until it started to smell.

There was no one in the hallway, which didn't surprise me. I could hear Rose yelling at one of her kids. The number of offspring she had living with her was questionable but there had to be at least two since she always phrased the label in the plural sense. The door across from mine—overall guy—was silent but even his door seemed threatening with its chipped paint and black metal doorknob.

Slowly, I went down the steps to the basement where two washing machines and two dryers sat for our convenience. Of course, they had quarter slots because nothing is free. I put in my coloreds but let the rest sit, in case someone else needed to use the other one. It was Sunday so I was in no rush—I had all day to sit and listen to the machine vibrate and slosh.

After starting the machine, I closed the lid and sat on the chair that was facing the door. I curled my feet underneath my bottom and opened one of my new books. It was some Western romance where the man was perfect and the woman—of course—a virgin in trouble. What was so appealing about virgins, anyway? I shrugged to myself because I was long past finding the answer to that question. My cherry had been popped my second year of college to the man I was running from. Probably, virgins had something there.

"Emily! Get your butt down here with that laundry basket or I'll turn your butt cheeks pink!" My eyes widened at the sound of the screeching that was coming my way. "NOW!"

Rose stomped down the steps and into the laundry room like a mess in high tops. Her blonde hair was sitting on top of her head and eye make up ran from the corners of her eyes as if her pencil had missed its mark. Her lipstick was perfect—cherry red on full pouty lips. A round basket full of children's clothing sat on one hip and a two year old on the other.

"Hey," she grumbled. "Your machine almost done?"

I hopped up and checked the dial even though it was clear from where she stood. "I'm about halfway there."

She made an impatient noise from deep in her throat and I sat back down. My rear went airborne at least six inches when she screamed again.

"Emily! Get. Down. Here. NOW!" she screamed up the steps.

I tried not to stare but it was like a bad car accident. Rose wasn't a large woman but motherhood had taken its toll on her body. Her full hips were stretching her denim jeans to the max and her breasts sat like rocks in her small t-shirt. She had a tattoo on her bicep and a long scar on the side of her throat.

Rose huffed and cast a sideways glance at me. I buried my face in the book, pretending that she just hadn't caught me staring. "Could you…?"

I looked up and she was holding her baby out to me. She was adorable, I had to admit, with long dark eyelashes and curls of blonde hair falling over her forehead. Her cuteness didn't make up for the fact that she was a kid and I didn't know squat about kids.

"Uh…I can't really…"

Before I had time to answer, she thrust the little girl onto my lap and her bottom lip started to shake.

"It's okay, sweetie. Mommy will be right back. I have to go get that silly sister of yours so you're going to stay here with…" She looked up at me.

I blinked twice before answering, "Bella."

"You're going to stay here with Bella for just a minute," she cooed.

She rose up and ran her fingers through her hair and settled her gaze on me. "I'll only be two minutes."

I wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a threat or a reassurance so I took it as both. Before she got out the door I called out to her and she looked at me from over her shoulder.

"W-what's her name?"

She narrowed her eyes a little then sighed, "Samuel."

Then she was gone and I was left pondering about what a strange name "Samuel" was for a pretty little…

"Oh! You're a…oh," I said out loud.

"Mommy?" he asked, whimpering.

My breathing quickened in my chest and a knot formed in my stomach. "She'll be right back, Samuel. Do you go by Sam?"

He looked cautiously at me for a moment before nodding. "Stowee?"

My face screwed up into panic. What did "stowee" mean?

"Stowee," he repeated, his lip trembling with the threat of a wail.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but I don't know what you're saying." I shifted uncomfortable in my chair and he wobbled on my lap.

"Weed stowee." Then he pointed at my book. Thankfully the cover was flat against the ground so that he didn't get a view of the cowboy gripping the virgin's cleavage.

"Uh…that is a very, very boring book," I told him. "I can make one up, though. Would you like that?"

I took his blinking as an affirmative reply.

"Okay…uh…let's see. Have you ever heard the story of…"—my mind raced to think of a story, any story, but it was blank. "Okay, uh, once upon a time there was this little boy named Sammy," I said, smiling at him. He grinned back and his bottom stopped trembling. I took that as a sign to continue. "Sammy was a brave little boy who liked to venture into the forest by his house. There were bears and lions and raccoons,"—he didn't look impressed with my wildlife selection so I added, "and dragons, too!" His eyes lit up and a grin spread out across his small thin lips.

I told him a story about little Sammy befriending a dragon and how they would fly through the air with Sammy on his back. The dragon's name was Goliath and could only speak dragon tongue but just because they couldn't communicate with words, didn't mean they weren't best friends. Sammy drank in the story, mumbling baby talk during the exciting parts and making an appropriate scared face when the other humans wanted to kill the dragon because they thought he was dangerous. I was pretty impressed with myself since I was pulling the plot out of my ass, line by line.

"Sammy stood up for his friend and told all his friends and family how sweet Goliath really was. The people were afraid because they didn't understand Goliath but Sammy made them realize that you can learn from things that scare you. Are you scared of anything, Samuel?"

He stared at me, blinking, neither confirming nor denying my question.

"Maybe that's a little over your head," I mumbled, more to myself than to the tiny boy on my knee.

"He's scared of the dark," a voice said from the doorway.

Scary-gray-overalls guy was leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. The overalls were removed from his upper body; the lifeless sleeves hung down his lean hips. He looked bigger than he had the previous time I'd seen him—a white t-shirt clinging to a broad chest. A tiny spattering of chest hair poked out from the v-neck and his arms were firm and lean. The overalls were baggy over his legs but I doubted his legs were different from the rest of his body—powerful.

A tattoo covered his right bicep and poked out from under his shirt on his shoulder. The black contrasted with his pale skin, making the dark ink seem infuriated at something…everything.

"Ewart!" Sammy yelled, wiggling on my lap to run to the stranger in the doorway.

"Hey, little man," he said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He bent down and rested his elbows on his knees, prepared to accept affection from the tiny little boy.

Only, I wasn't letting go.

Sammy started to whimper and strain against my hold but I kept clutching onto him. The man glanced up at me with baffled eyes.

"His mother asked me to watch him," I told him, answering his unspoken question.

The muscles in his forehead flinched slightly. "I'm a friend of the family, so it's good."

"How do I know you're not some pervert?" I asked.

His eyes narrowed but he looked rather amused. "How do I know that you're not some pervert?"

He had a point. I had a feeling he was telling the truth but if he was some pervert and he snatched Samuel up and ran, it would be my fault.

"I think we should wait until Rose comes back," I told him.

Sammy pushed at my arms and started to cry.

The man stood up, rubbing his fingers over the stubble on his chin. I didn't know him well enough to read his body language but with the stiff posture and clinched jaw, assuming he was slightly perturbed wouldn't be stretching it. My stomach clenched and the muscles of my back began to ache as I felt his eyes on me. He was so tall. I avoided his eyes and tried to soothe Samuel with what I hoped were comforting whispers.

Stomping feet down the steps to the laundry room made the man pivot on a foot and I sighed in relief.

"Edward, what are you doing home this early?" Rose asked as she turned the corner.

Samuel finally pushed away from me and I let him go so that he could waddle over to Rose. He took me by surprise when he bypassed Rose and wrapped his arms around the man's—who's name was apparently Edward—legs.

Edward looked at Rose with an open mouth and wide eyes as if she were an idiot for asking him such a question. She put two baskets full of laundry on top the one she had already brought down.

"What?" She looked up as if she had post-it notes attached to her forehead and then she closed her eyes in remembrance. "Shhh…"—she glanced at Samuel who was wrapped around Edward's leg—"Darn it! I forgot about my stupid doctor's appointment!"

"I can watch Sammy, Mom!" A little girl with dark brown hair past her shoulders peeked in the room. I assumed this was Emily, Samuel's troublemaker sister.

"You're only ten, squirt," Edward said, ruffling her hair. She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's the reason I took off work early, Rose. You're still going to go, right?"

She sighed and looked wearily at all the baskets of laundry that she had piled beside the machines. "I have so much shhh…crap I have to get done."

"Rose, I can't just take off early for work for no reason," Edward said between clenched teeth. If he looked at me like that, I was sure to go fetal but Rose just quirked an eyebrow at him. "It's not like I have vacation days coming out of my aaaa…butt."

The little girl raised an eyebrow. "You almost said a bad word, Edward."

"I could do your clothes for you," someone said. It was a weak voice that sounded scared and fragile. At first I thought it was Emily but then everyone turned to me. Even Samuel, peeked at me over his shoulder.

Oh, crap, did I say that?

Rose's face lit up. "You would?"

I chewed on the question for a minute and shrugged because I really had nothing better to do. It would make me feel useful for the first time in months.

"That would be awesome!" she exclaimed, setting a bowl of quarters down by her laundry. "I'll go get ready!"

Edward waved her away and grabbed up Samuel. The little girl followed her Mom up the stairs and back to the apartment.

"What are we going to do today, buddy?" he asked the little boy in his arms.

Samuel gurgled something that sounded like a mix between English and French but Edward answered him. It was obvious they were close but they didn't live together. The kids didn't call him 'Dad' but he almost seemed obligated to watch over them. Rose's boyfriend, perhaps?

I started putting clothes from one of the baskets into the washer, putting in a cup of detergent along with it. When I closed the lid and turned around, Edward was standing close. He reached out his hand and I tried so hard to keep my body steady but, on impulse, I flinched.

His facial muscles tightened. "I'm Edward."

My hand gripped his and he shook it up and down slightly. "I'm Bella."

"I promise that I'm not a pervert," he told me.

I bit on my lip and grinned. "Sorry about that—you don't know who you can trust with kids."

My eyes were drawn to the tattoo on his bicep as it curled around Samuel who was playing with Edward's hair. Obviously, a hairbrush was low on his list of necessities. The ends hung over his brows, pointing every which way and in the back it seemed to go backwards and sideways all at the same time.

"You from Chicago?" he asked.

I shook my head, not wanting to converse but enjoying the contact with another person. Esme was the only human contact that I had since departing Oklahoma and even before that, I don't know if I'd call it human. More like, brutal inhumanity.

"I'm from Seattle," I lied. Well, I had lived in Seattle while I went to The University of Washington, so it wasn't a complete lie. "What about you?"

"I'm from the area," he told me. Something about the way his eyes shifted to the washing machine—which had begun the rinse cycle—told me that he wasn't being particularly truthful, either. "What brought you to Chicago?"

That was a loaded question—one that I should have been anticipating but hadn't thought of an answer. Esme hadn't even asked me that and I had been working with her for a week.

I opened my mouth to answer him but instead was interrupted by the shrill of Rose.

"I'm leaving! Dinner is on the stove! Would you go up and check on it?"

Edward huffed and muttered something under his breath. "Way to encourage a fire in the building, Rose!"

If eyes made a noise when they rolled, the sound coming from the top of the stairs would be deafening. "Whatever! Just check on it! I have to work tonight so I won't see you 'till the morning!"

"Bye Mom!" Emily yelled as she stomped back down the steps.

"Bye sweetie! Bye Sammy!"

Sammy was too fascinated with Edward's hair to care that his Mom was leaving. That made two of us.

"I better get up there before she kills us all," he muttered. "It was nice meeting you, Bella. You can just leave the clothes baskets down here when you're done and I can bring them up."

"Okay," I squeaked.

He tickled Sammy and led Rose's daughter up the steps with a hand on her head, and they giggled as he made growling noises up the steps. When he reached the top, he must have let them go because the sound of tiny stomps went from East to West followed by heavy ones.

A few hours later, I was finished with the washing and waiting on the drying. It took a genius to figure out how to fold up pint sized shirts and miniature skirts however folding Rose's laundry was the toughest. She had more thongs than a flip-flop shop in Miami. There were shirts covered in sequins, leather mini-skirts and half-shirts accompanied by the t-shirts and jeans like she wore today. Either Rose walked around her apartment half-nude or she was a stripper.

I chewed on that revelation for a moment and realized that if she were a stripper, it wouldn't make one iota of difference. Women did what they had to do to support their families and since the kids' father wasn't around, it meant she had to sacrifice. Hell, maybe she liked exotic dancing.

When I was finished with the laundry, I put theirs on the table and carried mine up to my apartment. After having actual conversation with my neighbors, my apartment felt cold and lonely as I shut the door behind me and locked it. Even with heavy metal blaring through the wall, I just felt…empty.

Before I gave it too much thought, I went back out into the hallway and locked my door behind me. Down in the laundry room, I grabbed up two of the three baskets and made my way up the steps. I was halfway to their door when the new renter, Mr. Muscles, opened up his door and stepped out. The guy was huge and my fingers tightened around the hard sharp plastic handles of the basket. I tried to act nonchalant and unaffected by his gaze that washed over me as I walked toward Rose's apartment.

"Hey!" His voice was a deep baritone and the grit of his tone made my insides vibrate. "You my neighbor?"

I turned toward him but avoided his eyes, choosing to focus on the pile of clothes in my hand. One of Rose's thongs poked out of the top, even though I tried desperately to stuff them in the bottom of the basket. He walked closer when I didn't answer him.

"You deaf or something?"

My stomach clenched.

"I live over there." I nodded my head toward my door.

I finally made eye contact with him. His eyes were dark and his skin was russet brown, as if he were born with a sun tan. His shoulders heaved up and down as he took deep breaths.

"Humph," he answered. "If I ever get too noisy, just bang on the wall."

The chances of that were slim to none. I wouldn't be welcoming any contact with this bear of a man, unless my life depended on it and even then…

"Okay, thanks," I said.

"I know the chick that lives here got pretty pissed at me one night for the noise. She's kind of hot."

I didn't know how to answer that so I just nodded my head in agreement. I suppose Rose was pretty hot in an exhausted sort of way. There was definitely a prettiness about her that wasn't hidden too deep.

"Okay then," he said then shifted on his feet. "I'm Jake, by the way."

"I'm Bella," I replied with a small smile. "I actually like the music. I…uh…don't have a radio yet so it's a nice break in the silence."

He nodded and chuckled. "Cool."

Then he turned around walked toward the front door of the building, his boots thumping on the carpet with each step. I watched his form disappear as the door closed behind him.

I tapped Rose's door with the toe of my tennis shoe and waited, hoping that the noise was loud enough to hear with two kids running around. After a minute or so of no answer, I tapped it again—this time a little harder.

"I'm coming! Christ!" It was Edward and he didn't sound happy.

The door was yanked open and his angry eyes stared at me from behind the door. When he saw that it was me, his rigid posture loosened a little and his face softened.

He looked down at the baskets in my hands. "Is that…here, I'll take it."

Before I could respond, he wrapped his arms around the baskets. His bare forearm brushed against mine and it was warm. Soft. Muscular.

"There's one more down in the—"

"I'll get it later," he said, depositing the baskets behind him on the floor. "It's no problem but thanks for bringing these up. You didn't have to."

I shook my head. "No big deal. I just didn't want the clothes to sit down there where someone could take him."

He cleared his throat and looked down the hallway toward the stairs that led to the basement. I could tell he was thinking out a dilemma. Someone stealing the clothes hadn't crossed his mind.

The little girl asked him a question from behind the door and he turned to her. "It's Bella—your neighbor from across the hall."

She said something else, her voice low and conspicuous.

"No, she's not the one with the loud music, Em," he told her. "This is the girl from the laundry room."

"Oh, she can come in," I heard Emily say.

Edward shifted his eyes to me, shot me a nervous grin, and then looked back behind him. "I'm sure Bella has better things to do than sit with us."

Actually I didn't but I had the feeling that he didn't really feel like entertaining me so I jumped in.

"Yeah, I have lots of things to do," I announced so that she could hear me. "Loads of chores."

She peeked out from under Edward's arm. He looked annoyed.

"We're getting ready to eat ice cream. Do you like ice cream?"

I chewed on the inside of my cheek because I hadn't had ice cream in a year.

"I don't want to impose," I said.

Emily's eyes lit up. "You wouldn't be imposing! We could play music and you can teach me how to dance! I can do your nails! Mom got me some new nail polish that—"

"Em! Bella already said that she had other things to do so don't be rude," Edward told her.

She pouted at him and he looked away, rolling his eyes. "You're more than welcome to join us, Bella. However, we understand if you have other plans. Don't we, Emily?"

A dramatic sigh that she had obviously learned from her mother was released through her small full lips. "Yes, we definitely understand."

I was torn. Ice cream and conversation sounded three hundred times better than sitting alone in my empty apartment. I imagined going back there, sitting on my couch and sticking my nose in a book until it got dark outside. Then I'd hobble to bed, close my eyes and welcome the nightmares that came with the darkness. More often than not, I found myself hunkered in the corner of my living room like I had done the first time I arrived in my new apartment. I had no memory of how I got there or when—I'd just wake up with a crick in my neck and sweat rolling down my back.

However, I didn't want to form relationships. There was a good chance that I'd have to pick up and leave one day. If I became close with Rose and the kids, I'd be leaving a part of me in Chicago. There were only so many pieces of my soul that I could lose before I completely lost my mind.

But all in all—it was only ice cream.

"If you're sure that I'm not imposing, I'd love to join you," I told them.

Emily squealed and Edward cringed at the sound. I was hoping it was the sound that put that look on his face and not the acceptance of Emily's invitation.

"Allright…allright…stop squealing!" he grumbled. Emily danced away, deeper into the apartment. "Bella, make yourself at home and I'm going to get the last basket of clothes."

"Thanks," I told him.

I went to move by him but he stayed in my path. With hesitance, I glanced up at his face, terrified that he'd be angry. Instead, there was a playful smirk on his face.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into," he said.

I furrowed my brows. "What do you mean by that?"

He opened his mouth to respond but the music coming from inside the apartment answered for him. It was peppy and bouncy and cute—Britney Spears on crack.

"You're going to earn that ice cream," he teased.

It didn't matter that I would be forced to dance or paint toe nails or whatever else a young girl could conjure up to torture a woman. As I walked into that apartment, I stopped thinking about James for the first time since I left him.

A/N: As you can see, these characters will be a little different than usual. Let me know what you think!