Sometimes, feeling lonely can turn into introspection and self–awareness. My Dad always used to tell me that I should believe in myself, because unless I do, nobody else will.

––x––

Today is a good day. I can feel it in my bones. Despite having stayed up half the night in hopes of Edward's call, despite being unable to finish the assignment that was due today (and will earn me additional homework), despite being ignored by Maria in the morning…I feel lighter, in a way. Maybe it's because the sun is out.

Maybe it's because I finally mustered up the courage to call Charlie again. Maybe it's because he didn't sound mad, or sad, and maybe because I could hear his happiness that I called.

Maybe because it's his birthday and I'm proud of myself for making sure it's a happy one.

Maybe because I sent him a gift that I bought with my own money. My money earned from a decent job. Maybe because I'm excited for him to receive it and call me because yeah, he finally has my number.

Maybe because I walk these hallways of this community college and for once feel worthy of this opportunity to learn.

Maybe because I reach the library where I tutor high school kids – my second job that the counselor set me up with – and actually feel eyes that respect me and do not leer. Maybe because these five kids had a test last week and D minus average holders now show me sheets with As and Bs.

Maybe because I'm proud. Of them. Of me.

Maybe because one of these kids is a goofball and I can't help but smile when he's around. I can't help but feel grateful that he carries my stuff and walks with me to the bus stop every evening (we take the same bus), talking about school stuff and about the girls he has a crush on. I can't help but find it endearing when he whines about how complicated girls are and then blushes and mumbles "no offense intended." For all his confidence, he's still just a boy.

"Miss Bella, I wish all girls were like you."

"Are you flirting with me again, Jacob?"

"Would I dare?"

"Yes."

He sighs exaggeratedly. "Just one date. That's all I ask." He grins.

"I hope for your sake that you are joking because not only is it immoral and unethical if I go out with you – not to forget illegal – but my boyfriend will beat you to a pulp."

"Oh yeah. The boyfriend. Forgot about that."

I roll my eyes. Forgot. Bullshit.

"Where is your boyfriend, anyway? How come he never picks you up?"

"I'm a big girl, Jacob, I can take myself home."

"You're not making up a hypothetical boyfriend just to make the letdown easier for me, are you? Because I am only kidding about taking you out. I mean, you're really, and I mean really pretty –"

"Jacob –"

"–but like…no. That would be so gross."

I chuckle. "I know you're joking. You're always joking. Why else would I put up with you?" I poke his arm.

"Um, because we're friends?"

I'm taken aback. "What?"

He shrugs. "You're a cool friend. And you always help me out."

"That's my job," I argue.

"You do more than your job, Miss Bella. I think we both know that."

I can only shake my head. But as I mull it over, I realize that friend doesn't sound bad actually. No, it doesn't sound bad at all.

We have just reached the main gate when my eyes spot a figure in the distance. Leaning against his silver car, hunched over as if looking for something inside the window, perfect features crumpled up in a grimace, phone balanced between his shoulder and ear as he fiddles with his watch... He looks aggravated. Messed up. Gorgeous.

And fuckable.

Extremely fuckable.

I tell my horny brain to shut up.

"Um…judging by the look on your face, I'd say that's your boyfriend."

I turn to Jacob with a small smile. "I'll see you tomorrow." I take my bag from him. "Thank you."

He grins. "Cool."

When I look back towards Edward, he's looking straight at me. Phone call finished, watch strap adjusted, tie loosened up. For a moment, all I can think of is he didn't call, he didn't call, he didn't call. All I can feel is a desperate longing. Like I can't reach him even when he's right here. Like we're miles apart no matter what.

And then he opens his arms. And I'm the teenager living out my normal high school day that I never experienced, as I run straight to him and throw my arms around his neck. He lets out a little "oof" of surprise but returns my embrace.

I blush when I finally pull back. "Hi."

He takes my bag and tosses it inside the car through the open window, and his hands come back to rest on my waist. "Hi."

Why is this awkward?

"Um, so –"

"Who is that?" He nods towards the direction I just walked – ran – from.

I don't even have to look. "Jacob. Jacob Black."

"Hmm."

He looks bothered by it. And even though the rational part of me knows I don't owe him any explanation, and I note that he doesn't even ask for it, I give him one anyway.

"Edward, he's a kid. He's like…half my age. Knowing my luck, I've probably slept with his Dad at some point," I say jokingly.

And yeah, that wasn't the way I planned to say that.

He doesn't laugh. In fact, his expression makes me regret my lack of brain to mouth filter.

I purse my lips. "That wasn't an appropriate thing to say, was it?"

He looks like he'll throw up. "Not really, no."

I put my arms around his neck again and pull myself up on my tiptoes to kiss his nose. "I'm sorry. It's just…I read a couple of self–help books."

"That's…good?"

I smile at his confused tone at my abrupt change of subject, and relax back on my heels as his hands rub my back. "One of my professors kinda…knew me. Like, he recognized me. From before." My voice is smaller. "He knew what I used to do."

"Oh no. Did he –"

"Wait, let me finish. I was sure he wasn't a…former client. He called me after a class and told me he just saw me dancing at some party his friends dragged him to. Anyway, I expected him to be a douche about the whole thing, but…he was actually really nice. He said he was glad I was trying to turn a new page. So, um, he recommended that I go and see the guidance counselor. Tell her about my life. That she would help me figure out what I'm good at and how to deal with…everything. And yeah, she did. She made me take aptitude tests and stuff, and she also gave me a few self–help books because she could see how lost I felt."

I don't tell him how that feeling of being lost multiplied because I couldn't see him when I probably needed him most.

He just keeps running his fingers through my hair and patiently listens. I can feel my face heating up. I'm rambling like a silly girl. I don't know why I'm embarrassed about all this but I am.

"So anyway. The self–help books. They talk about this thing where I'm supposed to speak my mind no matter what. It's supposed to build confidence and help to 'deal with repressed traumatic memories'. I memorized that bit. I try to follow it." I shrug. "Hence the word vomit. Sorry."

He leans in and his breaths on my face are heaven. "Bella, don't ever be sorry for that. You're becoming this wonderful, strong woman – not that you weren't before, but you know what I mean." His words against my forehead and I could die of emotions. "You're out here trying to chalk out a career and build a life from scratch, and I don't say this nearly enough, but I'm proud of you. I'm proud of everything you are." His voice is gentle and lips are kissing down my cheek and fuck me, I missed him so much. And combined with his words…I just want to cry.

He pulls back a little and with his finger tries to make my lips smile. He sighs. "How old did you say he was?"

"Huh?"

"Jacob." His eyes are amused.

My eyes roll. "Sixteen." And for his benefit. "I just help him out with Math. It's my second part time job. I tutor five kids. Who knew I still remembered high school stuff, eh?"

He frowns. "He doesn't look sixteen," he mutters. It makes me chuckle that that's the only thing he chose to focus on out of everything I just said.

"Oh, you know, teenage boys and their obsession with being buff these days. It's…a little out of control in Jacob's case."

"I can see that."

"Edward," I say when he still looks troubled. "Honestly, you can't be jealous of a kid!"

He buries his face in my neck and holds me tight. "I can't help it. He gets to spend more time with you in a day than I do in a month lately."

"Well, that's not my fault, is it?" I regret saying it immediately.

He just sighs.

I kiss his cheek. "I shouldn't have said that either."

"It's true though." He does sound regretful.

I don't know what else to say so I just hold him as tight as he's holding me. It's warm and comforting and familiar. His scent is like home.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"Are we just gonna like, stand here like this?"

His face shifts so his lips find my neck. Open mouthed kisses. Jesus. I try not to make indecent noises. We are in public.

"Yes. Yes, we are going to just stand here for a little longer because I haven't seen you in more than a month and I really miss holding you. So I'm just going to hug the shit out of you for as long as I can."

And when he says stuff like that, I just fall for him a bit more.

––x––

We're pulling in at some fancy place I've only heard of maybe once. And I'm regretting the fact that underneath this overcoat I'm wearing a shirt with a hole in it. Actually, two. It's an old shirt. And Maria should just leave the ironing to me.

"Are you sure you won't get in trouble with your boss?" he asks me. And that makes me giggle.

"What?"

"Just the fact that I'm being asked about my job and possible consequences of calling in sick. I mean, it's silly. It's not like I run a company. I just wait the tables at a café for four hours. In fact, I should ask you about getting in trouble."

He kisses the hand he hasn't let go of all through the ride. "I'm my own boss, baby."

I raise a brow when he looks at me after parking the car. "Yet you can't call in sick to, oh I don't know, go see your girlfriend whom you haven't seen in, say, a month?"

His face falls. "Yeah, I deserved that one."

I just take a deep breath. I'm about to apologize when he kisses my hand again.

"But you know," he says against my skin, "I'm here now. And I totally called in sick."

Before I can respond, he's out the door and rushing to open mine.

"Charming," I say with a light smile.

"What? Opening your door or calling in sick?"

I smile and take the hand he's offering me. "Both."

He puts on his coat, locks up the car and we start walking, but not ten seconds later, he suddenly stops. "Oh, shit, I completely forgot."

"What?"

"I was supposed to pick up flowers for you on my way. That goddamn phone call just…" he shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be. Since when have I cared about flowers, Edward?"

He rubs his free hand over his face. "That's not the point. The gesture. It's the gesture that counts."

He is more upset than he probably should be. I step closer and hug him, and I can feel the tension in his body.

"Why are you so anxious?" I whisper in his ear. "It's just me. Relax, okay?"

"I can't. It's not okay." He pushes me back a bit and his hands come up to hold my face. "Don't you see, Bella? At every step I'm failing you."

"Forgetting to bring flowers is not –"

"It's not about the fucking flowers," he says impatiently. "It's about how I should be treating you like the treasure that you are." His forehead rests against mine. "It's about how I wanted – needed – to take you out on a real, clichéd date that we never had. It's about how I resolve every day to call you and fail. Like last night. I hate that I was so tired by the time I reached home that I couldn't even finish my dinner, leave alone checking my phone. I just fell asleep, right there on the couch. It's about the weekends I spend planning to show up at your place to surprise you, but derail all those plans for one thing or the other. If it's not a PTA meeting, it's a board meeting. If it's not art classes and a stubborn kid, it's an assistant misplacing files I desperately need. If it's not phone calls from the lawyer, it's phone calls from a babysitter who at the last minute decides not to show up. It's like, everything that could possibly go wrong, does. And now we're standing here in this goddamn parking lot of a restaurant I'm not even sure you like, and I've forgotten to even bring you flowers, and I can sense all the hurt behind your little remarks, and I am so unbelievably sorrier than I can tell you. You'd think as a man who runs his own company and is raising a child by himself, I'd be better equipped to deal with all this, but I'm not. I'm this close to my snapping point."

"Hey, come on," I say gently and turn my face to kiss his hand. "Don't put yourself down like that. I know you have a lot of responsibilities. I understand. Don't beat yourself over it. You said you're proud of me, and I'm proud of you, too. You handle far more than I could even dream of." I pull myself up on my toes and lightly brush my lips against his. He moves one hand behind my neck and pulls me closer. It's gentle and innocent. His lips are so soft and just slightly wet and it's perfect. His fingers in my hair make me shiver. His thumb against my cheek is light as a feather. I breathe him in greedily, clutching and wrinkling his shirt in one hand, stroking his heartbeat on the neck with the other.

"I'm sorry I've been such a bitch today," I say breathlessly, as I pull back a little. "You're right; I was hurt. How could I not be, Edward? I missed you. I miss you. I'm only human, and sometimes I just need you. Yesterday, I needed you. My first day of college, I needed you. I didn't realize just how dependent I was – am – on you, till you weren't there."

"I'm so sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to talk to me. Discuss this so we can somehow make it work."

"I…I was nervous. More than that…I was scared about today," he admits with a little nod, his eyes still closed.

"Why?"

"I thought you'd tell me to go fuck off. I thought you would've…maybe…I don't know…met someone who could –"

"Edward that's absurd."

"– who could make you his first priority," he finishes, and the furrow in his brow breaks my heart.

"Open your eyes," I whisper. He complies. I look into them as I say the next words, so he knows that I mean them. "I don't want to be someone's first priority. Or any priority. Fuck that. I'm not a responsibility you can just add in on a list and scratch it off when it's done. No. That's insulting who I am."

He's shaking his head. "I didn't mean it like that, I promise –"

"Just let me finish." I take a deep breath. "Sooner or later, I had to do this. Go out. Learn. Be independent. In a twisted way, maybe it was even positive that you weren't there. I don't know. My Mom always used to say that everything happened to put you on the right path so you could reach your destiny. I used to find those words hokey, but I see what she meant.

"That's not to say that I didn't need you. I did. I still do. How can I not? I love you. I just had to learn to exist despite that need. I'm still learning. And as far as priorities are concerned…well…I'd rather share priorities, know what I mean? Don't cut me out of your life, Edward. Tell me how I can help, and I will."

He nods and kisses my forehead. We stand there in silence for a few seconds, just holding on to each other.

"We just had this serious as it gets conversation in the middle of a parking lot." I look up to see his smiling face.

I smile too, feeling lighter than I have in a long while. "Lucky for us, there aren't people around."

He brushes his nose against mine. "I hope you like Italian cuisine, Bella. I'm starving."

"Duh, my name's Bella," I joke. "I used to cook Italian food with Mom all the time. But I haven't had it in forever."

"I think we should remedy that." But instead of walking, he leans in and kisses me again, this time immediately tracing my lips with his tongue and grasping me so tightly that his fingers dig into my back. I feel like I could happily drown in him…drown in this moment.

Dinner's going to have to wait.

––x––

Thanks to NKubie for everything, and to you. Yes, you.