A/N: Pay careful attention to the chapter subtitles to understand the timeline.

This story alternates between past and present.

Word prompt: Job

Something True

Job

Last Winter

"Your mother's taken up smoking again," Bella's dad said, all dressed in uniform and slipping his holster on in the living room.

Bent over the sofa, Bella shoved her binder in her backpack, slipped a pen into the smallest pocket, double checked for her calculator, and then brushed past her dad to the fridge for a bottle of water.

"Did you hear me?"

"I don't know what you want me to do about it." She shoved the water bottle into its slot at the side of her bag.

"You used to tear them up and scold her." He kind of laughed, but it was a strange laugh, something between a scoff, as though what he'd said was ridiculous, and hope, like he hoped Bella might break cigarettes in half again. But that was ten years ago, before she was even eight years old.

"Maybe she wants to die." Bella pulled her coat on and lifted her backpack over her shoulder.

"Why would you say something like that?"

Without answering she headed to the front door. It was stark white on this side, freshly painted. Her mother couldn't stand all the fingerprints and grime she couldn't seem to free it of no matter how hard she scrubbed. So, last weekend, she painted it.

"Need a lift?" her dad asked, catching up to her. She didn't turn.

"It's not raining." The truth was, it embarrassed her to be dropped off in front of school in his police cruiser. Still, had it been raining, or snowing, or extra windy, she would've taken him up on his offer. Better embarrassment by police car than by drenched or wind-wild hair, especially after all the time she'd spent curling the ends. Her hair was so stick straight that it was hard to get the curls to take, but with practice she'd learned how to make it look like she had smooth, natural waves. She hadn't worn it straight since then. It just looked too flat.

"Bella." He said her name twice, louder the second time. Bella faced him. He was leaning against the doorjamb, the side of his head resting against his knuckles as they curved around the edge of the wood. His fingers tapped twice. "Have a good day. Love you."

"Love you, too." She smiled at him, pulled her hood up, careful to tuck her hair in, and then headed toward school.

Instead of walking along the road, she took the shortcut through the woods between the road and the lake, icy pine needles crunching under her boots. The trees grew so massive here, and the sky was so overcast, that the sunlight didn't seem any more powerful than moonlight. On her left, through a break in the trees she could see the cottage near the lake's edge, all closed up. It belonged to Rosalie's family. She'd told Bella it was part of her family's inheritance. They lived in a big house at the other end of town and never used the cottage, but her dad didn't want to sell it. Her grandpa was a fisherman and lived in that cottage during the last years of his life. When Rosalie and Bella first became friends a year ago, they laughed about how weird it was that Bella knew Rosalie's grandpa before she knew Rosalie.

Bella's gaze followed the wind through the trees to the lake. She wished it was summer so, freezing water or not, she could go for a swim. Her parents had made her learn how to swim at a young age because they lived so close to water. Floating on her back was what she learned first, and she loved pretending that the water was her bed as she lay there squinting up at the sky. Nothing was bigger than the sky, and from there, she felt like she could see all of it. As she got strong at freestyle, they had her swim from the shore nearest their house to the small island about twenty five yards out. A floating rope led to the island because swimming to that island was popular in the summer. Bella's dad had bought her a wetsuit and she would swim out there practically every day.

She came out of the woods on West End Road, a few blocks from Forks High. Car after car, truck after truck, packed full, was pulling into the parking lot of the big Veteran's Hall. They were preparing for a winter fundraiser. Every season this town had some sort of fundraiser. Bella had no idea what this one was even for. Some men were on ladders stringing lights up along the edge of the roof.

"Little Lulu!"

Bella would recognize that nickname and that voice no matter how many years went by. Mrs. Cameron had thought Bella looked like this cartoon character she used to love as a girl, Little Lulu. Bella had found the DVD at the supermarket and bought it for her one Christmas. They'd watched all the episodes together as they knitted.

She ran over to the parked car with the hand sticking out of the window in a wave. Opening Mrs. Cameron's door for her, Bella helped her up, and let herself get wrapped tight in thick, heavy arms covered in a full winter coat. Bella could hardly reach around the woman's back. They swayed from side to side a few times.

"You're not a kid anymore, are you?"

"Nope." Bella left the embrace. "Need some help?" She was already lifting the trunk open.

"Oh, it's just a few afghans I knitted for this thing. And my-"

"Your rocking chair?" It shocked Bella how the thought of Mrs. Cameron getting rid of her rocking chair knocked the wind out of her. After letting her backpack fall to the ground, she hoisted the chair out and sat in it, rocking against the concrete, feeling almost betrayed, even bitter. She heard the sound of tiny pebbles getting crushed beneath her as she rocked.

"Jared got me a new one. It glides. No more squeaking."

"The squeaking is the best thing about it." She rubbed her hands along the arms of the chair as if she were petting it. This might be the last time she'd ever touch it. "Can't you put it in your bedroom?"

"Don't need it. Besides, darling, it's for charity." The way she said charity was grandmotherly. It was the voice she used to speak in whenever Mrs. Cameron was trying to cheer her up—when Bella fell and skinned her knee, or when she sometimes cried for no reason that she could explain, or even on the days when her mother would pick her up and Bella would beg Mrs. Cameron to let her stay the night.

Caught off guard by stinging eyes, she bent to pick up her backpack and to hide her face at the same time. She thought maybe she was still a little kid after all. Mrs. Cameron trailing her with her box of knitted creations, Bella carried the rocking chair into the hall. She would be late for first period at this rate, but that didn't matter to her. She set the chair down next to some table where people were taking inventory. Barely whispering a goodbye to Mrs. Cameron, Bella decided that on Saturday morning she would come here right when it opened to buy that chair.

...

At lunch, in the noisy cafeteria, Bella laughed to herself wondering what Mrs. Cameron would think of the conversation going on around her. The girls were discussing who was still a virgin and who wasn't. It seemed to Bella that she and Rose were the only two virgins left in the school. Rose said she was saving it. Bella didn't say anything. She wasn't saving hers. The opportunity simply had not arisen for her. And, as she looked around at all the non-virgins all over the cafeteria, she was beginning to wonder if it ever would. She couldn't see it happening with anyone at this school. She'd known practically everyone since kindergarten. They all seemed like kids to her.

"You two are insane," Alice said from across the table, little wisps of black hair sneaking out from under her baseball cap. "Saving it? For what? You think you're earning interest? You don't know what you're missing. I say make your withdrawals as early as you can."

"What about love?" Rosalie asked. She was pretty much the opposite of Alice—as tall and blond as Alice was short and dark, as soft-spoken and reserved as Alice was outspoken and blunt.

"You think you can't ever fall in love just because you have sex, old lady?"

Bella tore off a piece of her bread crust and threw it at Alice, who blocked it with her hand. "Hey! That's what I get for trying to save your life?"

"Now it's a matter of life and death?" Bella asked.

"Practically." Alice looked at Jessica and Lauren, and they all nodded together.

"And you're our savior?"

Alice tossed the piece of bread back at Bella. "It's my job. Saving people." By the expression on her face, eyebrows raised and hidden in her bangs, Bella could tell exactly what Alice was referring to.

When she was ten, while Bella was discovering her mother's infidelity, Alice was saving her mother from a car accident, pulling her out of the car before it went up in flames. For months after that, while she went through physical therapy, Mrs. Brandon had to get around in a wheelchair. She had this electric one that she used to ride around town while Alice held onto the back of it gliding along on her Razor scooter.

Even though Bella had thought it looked like a lot of fun, she had to force herself to smile when Alice greeted her as her mom dropped her off at school that way. There was a time when Bella could have played with her mother just like Alice and Mrs. Brandon played. But by then Bella knew nothing anywhere close to that would ever happen again.

"After school, I'm taking you to the Black Market and getting you condoms."

"Not me," Rosalie said.

"Come on. What are you afraid of?"

"You."

Alice smiled at her and gave her puppy-dog eyes. When that didn't work, she turned to Bella. "How about you?"

Bella said she'd go, but just in case she needed them, not because she had plans to make any withdrawals anytime soon.

At the store, Alice picked out three different brands and handed them all to Bella. "You have to buy them."

Bella shook her head. "I'll give you the money, but I'm not buying them."

"You have to. It's like, a whole part of the process. Come on; woman up."

Bella glared at her friend. "I hate you."

She waited until there was nobody in line and then, after contemplating shoplifting, went up to the front to pay. She almost added a Snickers bar to the transaction as well, but thought about how much more embarrassing that would have been. She refused to make eye contact with the cashier, and she held Alice's arm as the condoms were wrung up, holding her breath as if she were underwater in the lake. She didn't breathe again until the condoms were hidden away in a brown bag.

Someone cleared his throat behind her. Bella spun around fast, horrified that it might have been her dad, but no, it was worse. Much worse than being caught buying condoms by her dad. It was Rosalie's brother. Rosalie's gorgeous, older brother with the green eyes and the rust-brown hair whom she hardly knew, and he had his arm around some brunette's shoulders.

It felt like the whole place had gone up a hundred degrees in under a second, like a fire had started, the flames singeing her face. Alice, beside her, was cracking up. And Edward Cullen was smirking.

"Some night ahead," he said, and even his voice, deep and gritty, and like it was climbing on top of her, wasn't enough to distract Bella from the raging fire around her. That was, until he bent close to her ear, his lips practically brushing against her skin and whispered, "Make him earn it."

The fire was gone. She shivered. Right there in front of his girlfriend and Alice, Edward had made her shiver.