Thank you everyone for the reviews and adds for just that first chapter. If I didn't respond to your review, it was because I thought you deserved more than a generic "Thank you" and couldn't come up with anything better to say. I am lame.

Thanks to Stratan for the beta work, as usual.

Chapter 2

Edward

From the second I left the garage, all I could see when I closed my eyes was yoga pants. Not just any fucking yoga pants: Tight, royal blue yoga pants that framed the perfect, swaying ass of the girl who'd come into the garage earlier; yoga pants that made every cell in my long deadened body fire like a piston, sparking life back into me again.

The irony of that thought, given my summer "job", was not lost on me.

When I wasn't picturing those yoga pants plastered over her ass, I envisioned all that long, dark, shining hair cascading down around me as she writhed on top of me, those huge doe eyes searing right through me. Plump, unpainted lips being wetted by a flick of her tongue. Gorgeous, creamy skin. I was attracted to her from the second I saw her. It was the first time I'd been attracted to anyone since…

I ground my teeth together and squeezed my eyes closed, willing the sudden wave of nausea to pass. As soon as I knew I could hop up without puking all over my parent's expensive, Brazilian cherry wood floor, I shot out of the bed and made a fucking mad dash to the adjoining bathroom, flipping on the shower, and then bracing myself on the tile wall until I could breathe again.

And I'd been doing so goddamned well.

As soon as the shower had warmed, I stripped and stepped into the stream, reaching for the soap as soon as I got inside. I scrubbed my body until my skin was reddened and practically raw, needing to keep at it—even when the water started to run cold—until I'd wiped myself clean of the memory. I could never stand the way I felt after it came to surface. Dirty, lost, broken, weak, just to name a few. It never mattered how much time passed; it always crippled me.

I eventually regained my sanity and remembered that all the soap in the world couldn't wash it away, so I got out and wrapped a towel around my waist before I went back to bed. I flopped down on top of the covers without bothering to really dry off, and then glanced over at the clock. I only had another hour to go before I could go downstairs without causing any alarm.

After all these years, I'd become a master at hiding things from my family. No one knew exactly what I'd been through. No one knew how black I was inside, how soulless I sometimes felt. I kept up the façade; I appeared the so-called norm. My adoptive parents thought they'd saved me from a life that was bound to find me not simply homeless, but dead in one of those dark alleyways I tried to forget. I supposed that in a way, they did.

They just didn't know that it still haunted me; that I spent every night lying awake so that I didn't see the monsters of my past or that I'd trained myself to stop screaming when I woke up from the nightmares they induced on the nights I finally did succumb to exhaustion. They had no idea that I was already broken when they'd found me and that the thousands of dollars of therapy they'd spent on me had only helped me to cope with the aftereffects of that life.

There were some things even the best psychiatrist couldn't fix.

And I planned to keep all those dark secrets of mine just that: secret. I'd never be able to stand seeing Esme's face crumple when she found out or the shame, the pity that would shine in Carlisle's usually kind and understanding blue eyes.

Fuck that.

The girl would be back today, and knowing my brother, Emmett, she'd have the job as soon as she said the words, "Dr. Cullen told me about the job opening", which was not what I had in mind. That girl… She had an attitude that threatened to put me right back in my fucking place, had I actually stood there for a second longer and let her. No woman spoke to me like that, and I found it… unsettling at how relieved I was to hear a woman get angry with me instead of trying to weasel her way into my pants or my heart. Or my wallet.

All of which were off limits.

Then again, so was she.

She was innocent underneath all that fire, and I was… I was fucking toxic. I'd destroy her, though I honestly didn't want to. And when I left Forks to go back to Seattle for med school, I'd leave nothing but a pile of ruin in my wake.

I wasn't sure how, but I knew she deserved so much more than that. I needed her to stay away from me. Because fantasies of yoga pants or not, I was no good for her.

The hour ticked by slowly. I stared at the navy blue walls of my bedroom here in Forks and tried to keep the past in the past. But it kept creeping up on me today, relentlessly battering at my defenses until I finally gave in.

Elizabeth had navy walls, I thought to myself. Pitted and cracked walls that had been haphazardly painted this very color, albeit a cheap knock-off version, one night in a drug-induced frenzy. To keep them out, whomever they actually were. I'd hidden in the closet, eating the saltines I'd squirreled away after one of the few times she remembered to buy food for me. God, I'd been so hungry for so long that I'd grown accustomed to it. It seemed normal. After I'd moved into Carlisle and Esme's house, I'd finally gotten a taste of what it felt like to truly be full. It took me months to let go of the need to hoard food somewhere. My drawers were filled with small bags of chips, Snowballs, and other Little Debbie-type snacks, but Esme never said a word. She just let me adjust at my own pace.

To this day, I thanked her for that.

I could still picture Elizabeth passed out on the couch with paint splattering her once beautiful face and the brush resting on her chest. Her breathing was shallow, and that terrified me even more than her mania. She was all I had in that God forsaken world and at the time, I still had no idea what she was truly capable of. She had her problems, but she was mine. She was the only real, tangible thing I had then. I hadn't had a lot of toys or belongings, nor did I ever know who my sperm donor was. Although, I knew now that I was supposedly his namesake.

Not like I was ever going to bother checking that little fact out, though.

A light knock at my door was my salvation from where I was headed with that, and I took a deep breath to steady myself before making a move to answer it. I threw on a pair of basketball shorts as I went to open it. Esme stood in the hall, bundled in her pale pink robe like it was twelve degrees outside and not a balmy seventy. Her caramel hair was piled high on her head, and her brown eyes were heavy with sleep. The knock wasn't my salvation at all. She was. She had been since the moment she saw me lying in that hospital bed, and maybe always would be.

"Hey," I murmured, glancing down the hall to see if Carlisle was awake. The rest of the house was quiet, so I knew he and Jasper were still passed out blissfully in their beds.

"I saw your light on," she whispered. "Are you okay?"

I nodded. "Woke up early and figured if I fell back asleep, I'd be tired all day," I lied. "So I just went ahead and got up."

"Oh. Want some breakfast?"

I shook my head. "You don't have to cook for me."

"I want to," she argued. "I miss it. You're only here for the summer. As soon as you start med school, I'll hardly ever see you."

I couldn't remember the last time I'd denied her something. She always phrased what she wanted in such a way that I hadn't the first clue how. "Fine," I grumbled, watching her face light up when I gave in.

She reached out to touch me, but then changed her mind and let her arm drop back to her side. I scowled. She could always read me so well, knowing exactly when I could stand the touch and when I preferred her to stay away. Everyone else touched me at will, and I found my body freezing in diluted panic almost every time. The instinct to run was still strong, even though I wasn't that small kid anymore and I knew, realistically, that no one would hurt me again.

Reminding myself of that just never seemed to make a difference.

I silently followed her to the kitchen, bypassing her as I made my way out back for a quick smoke break on the deck. Carlisle hated this nasty little habit of mine, so I tended to only do it when he wasn't around, not wanting to see the disappointment on his face when I took that first drag. Besides, if I didn't feed my addiction now, I wouldn't have the chance again until I left the house.

I went back inside and sat at the table just as Esme got all the ingredients out to make strawberry pancakes, something that she was making for Jasper just as much as she was for me. Carlisle came down as she started to pour the batter out onto the griddle, giving me a sleepy wave as he headed over to Esme. He greeted her with a kiss as he stretched his arm around her and took hold of the coffee pot. Watching my parents together still seemed so foreign to me. I knew that this was the way relationships were supposed to be, but I never could quite get a handle on it. Didn't matter, though. It wasn't something I was interested in. Having it still feel foreign after all this time just solidified that. Not only was I unworthy of it, I couldn't even understand it. If that wasn't a sure sign of how irrevocably damaged I was...

It only served to steel my resolve further. This was not in my future. Keeping everyone at arm's length only helped preserve what little humanity I had left inside.

For some reason, I thought of the girl and frowned again. And then was slapped on the back of my head by my idiot brother as he went to the fridge.

Mild panic ensued.

I worked to calm myself before anyone noticed, watching him closely as he yanked out the milk and started gulping it straight from the jug.

"God damn it, Emmett, there are other people in this house who will use that too," I complained when I finally could speak again.

He shrugged and flashed me a dimpled smile. He was always like this. It wasn't like he was so self-involved that he disregarded everyone else, he just genuinely didn't see that what he did could potentially cause a problem. He was loud and crass, but he was kind hearted—despite what he'd been through. I had no idea how he was so well adjusted. His life was much like mine, and yet, he was… happy.

He put the milk back in the fridge and came to sit beside me. His massive body swallowed the chair, and I had to wonder how the fucker managed to sit in the same one each time he came over and not break it.

"Why are you here, anyway? Shouldn't you be at home with Rose?" I asked.

"Free breakfast," he answered, his cobalt blue eyes flashing over at Esme and back again at me. "Rose doesn't cook."

"Ah," I said with a nod. Whatever.

"You coming in later?"

I'd intended to say no in order to stay away from the girl who'd be coming back to talk to Emmett today, but what came out of my mouth was the exact opposite. "Yeah, after breakfast."

What the fuck?

"Good. We could use you. The new guy already called in sick, and we're booked solid till five."

"What's on the schedule?"

"Mainly oil changes and shit, but there's a sixty-eight 'Vette coming in for a new tranny. God, I cannot wait to get my hands on her. You'll probably have to do the majority of the work on it, though. I'm sure I'll be buried knee deep in fucking paperwork later." He ran his hands through his short, dark brown hair, a trait every one of us had picked up from Carlisle. His wedding ring caught my eye, and I followed the silver band on his finger all the way back down to the table. "I need a new administrative chick. Like now."

I glanced away.

"You might have one," Carlisle interjected.

Shit.

"Really?" Emmett asked anxiously. "How?"

"I gave a new patient of mine your card and told her that you were hiring. It's the chief's daughter, Bella, actually. You'd like her," he responded.

Bella. Beautiful. Go fucking figure.

"She seemed interested," he continued. "Maybe she'll stop by."

"She already did," I muttered, surprising them both. "Last night. Told her to come back today."

Where were the fucking pancakes? Talking about this girl made me want to start fidgeting like a middle-schooler with his first crush. I could feel my family's eyes boring into me, but I kept focus on my hands, picking at the calloused skin of my palms until someone cleared their throat.

I glanced up and saw Emmett study me for a moment longer before saying something. "Don't want her there, bro? I can keep looking. Hell, she might be a complete waste of my time."

"She's the chief's daughter, Emmett," Carlisle said. "She's not a waste of time."

"But maybe she lacks… computer skills," he said, grasping for some reason not to hire her.

"Nah." I shrugged and met his gaze, struggling for nonchalance. "She seems fine. Perfectly competent with plenty of computer skills." Saying anything else would have caused more scrutiny, and there was no need.

Because I wasn't going to have anything to do with the girl.

I'd lied well enough, because Emmett's face broke out into a wide grin and he clapped his hands together in anticipation. "Sweet. I'll have Rosie interview her then."

Esme turned around with a hesitant expression. "Sweetheart, as much as I love Rosalie, do you really think that's a good idea?"

When Emmett didn't respond, she elaborated, "It's just… Rosalie has such high expectations of people and she tends to come off a little…"

"Bitchy," Jasper finished for her as he walked through the door.

"I was going to say 'tough'," Esme said with a hard look in his direction. "Rosalie's not bitchy at all."

Jasper's dark blonde hair stood up on his head and he wiped the sleep from his gray eyes. He was wearing a long sleeved, white thermal shirt with Emmett's garage's logo on the front and a pair of black plaid pajama pants. It didn't matter how hot it was outside, he wore long sleeves and pants to hide his scars. Scars that marred the entire right side of his body and even stretched up to his chin, where the flames had licked at my brother's face before he was finally pulled away from them.

"Or maybe scary is more appropriate," he amended. "What are we talking about anyway?"

Emmett answered him as he gave Esme a quick peck on the cheek in greeting. "New hire at the garage."

"If your goal is to scare the girl—I'm assuming it's a girl—away, then go right ahead. If, however, you actually want to stop working on all that paperwork and get your hands on a car again, then you might want to have someone else do it, instead."

Emmett eyes landed on me.

"No," I said fiercely.

Jasper laughed.

"Come on! Please," Emmett pleaded. He looked so stupid as he stuck out his lower lip. "I need her."

"Then you need to be the judge on how much you 'need' her."

He shook his head obstinately. "Two words: Corvette. Tranny."

I glanced up to make sure neither of our parents were paying attention, and then snarled, "Two words: Fuck. You."

Emmett huffed, but knew me well enough not to argue. "Fine, I'll do it. You treat that 'Vette like it's one of those bodies you'll be studying this fall. Got it?"

I rolled my eyes, but was more than relieved that I didn't have to speak to this Bella person again. "I got it. Don't worry. Your precious baby is safe with me."

"It'd better be."

"Holy shit."

We were hovering next to Emmett's coveted 'Vette while we waited for the transmission fluid to finish draining when Sam Uley uttered that curse. I didn't even have to move my stare from the Quileute to know who'd walked in the door that moment. Somehow, I already knew that Bella was here.

"That her?" Emmett asked me before I could analyze that too much. "Please, say that's her."

I glanced up and saw Bella walking toward us hesitantly, dressed in a pair of slim black pants and a cream, sleeveless sweater that exposed only her collarbone and unbelievably, was still hot as fuck. Her hair was straight today, falling over her shoulders until it came to rest at her chest. When she pulled her lower lip in between her teeth and scanned the room, I had to look away.

I wasn't exactly sure why, though.

"It's her," I finally answered.

"Thank you, Jesus." He laughed triumphantly and strode away from us. Bella looked terrified of him until he smiled—which was completely normal; Emmett was so big, he scared most people—and then she did something that made my chest ache. She smiled back. It was warm and friendly and made her look absolutely stunning.

I scrubbed at my hair, suddenly and irrationally angry that she was here, when all I wanted was for her to disappear from my life and my mind.

"I need a smoke. Don't touch anything till I get back," I barked at Sam.

He cocked his brow, but said nothing in return.

I brushed past Emmett and Bella on my way out back, not bothering to glance over at them, though I wanted to. Desperately. And I had no idea what that was about.

Seemed to be the theme for the day.

I stopped just outside the back door and fumbled through my pockets for the appropriate paraphernalia. The second I had the cigarette lit, I took a deep drag and relaxed as the smoke burned through my lungs. The familiar feeling was soothing. It was the one thing I'd brought from my old life into this new one, even though I was well aware how contradictory it was to be a wannabe surgeon smoking like a fucking chimney in the middle of January. I just really didn't give enough of a shit about myself to quit.

I watched the rain splatter on the roof of my Volvo as I stood under the awning of the building and inhaled again. That silver car was the first thing I'd ever bought on my own, and it was a reminder of how far I'd come from being that scrawny boy that lived on the streets of Chicago. I'd refused to let Carlisle and Esme buy me anything when I got my license. I spent two years saving up enough money to buy it with what little money I worked my ass off earning and only—just barely—stopped being such a stubborn prick to let Carlisle cosign for the loan.

I'd probably never get rid of it for that reason alone.

The door swung open beside me, and Rosalie stepped out in the rain, giving me a peculiar look as she tied her long, blonde hair off her face. The gray coveralls she insisted on wearing were hanging from her waist, leaving only a stark white tank top behind, and I was betting there was no bra covering those perky tits of hers. I knew how lucky everyone thought my brother was for marrying her. She was without a doubt one of the most gorgeous women most of them had ever seen. And I supposed if I was like everyone else, I might've thought the same thing. But I didn't. To me, she was just another extended family member I got when I was adopted; a piece of the norm I hadn't known existed until then.

"Since when do you smoke outside instead of going out of your way to pollute my airspace?" she asked, pursing her dark red lips.

"Figured I'd be doing a public service by stepping outside. What do you want?"

She rolled her eyes. "Emmett told me to check on you. You've been out here for a while."

I glanced down at my cigarette and noticed that it'd gone out from lack of use, thanks to the fire safe paper it was rolled with.

"Huh," was all I said back. I really wasn't interested in the cigarette anymore, so I dumped it in the nearby trashcan, shoved my hands down in my pockets, and stared up at the dreary, gray sky. The one thing I missed about Chicago was the sun shining down on my face. I'd always loved that feeling as a kid.

"She's got a scar," Rosalie said after a while.

"What?" I asked, glancing over at her in confusion.

"The girl in there. The potential new secretary," she responded. "She bent over to get her ID out of her purse and I caught a glimpse of it. This much, maybe?" She held up her hands and measured the distance between her fingers; it was only half an inch. "It's vertical and pink, like she's had some kind of recent surgery."

Explained why she sought my dad out immediately after moving here.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, regardless of the fact that my mind was currently busy ticking off the numerous cardiothoracic operations that resulted in a pink, vertical scar on one's chest. The list was long and progressively worsened, so I quickly curbed my curiosity before I piqued Rosalie's.

"Just thought you might be interested. That's all," she said nonchalantly.

"We all have scars, Rosalie." Mine were just as deep on the inside as they were on the outside, and I imagined that Bella's were too. There was no way someone so young could have gone through something so serious and come out unscathed.

But why the fuck did I care?

"Yeah," she breathed. Her violet eyes turned down to the sidewalk. "Some just aren't visible like others."

I assumed that she was referring to Emmett, but when she stared back up at me, I saw an understanding flash in her eyes that shocked the hell out of me.

"So are you finished drooling over your car?" she asked, changing the subject.

I swallowed the sudden lump in the back of my throat down so I could speak. "Nope. I've probably got a few more hours of salivating to do."

She laughed. "Well, finish up. Sam's itching to get back to work on the 'Vette."

"I'll be there in a minute, damn it. Tell him if I so much as find one of those pretty black hairs of his on her, he's fired."

"Do you always have to be such an ass to people?"

"Do you always have to look like a slut?" I shot back.

"You make it really fucking hard not to slap you sometimes," she hissed as she stormed off.

I stayed outside for a little while longer before going back inside, trying to wrap my mind around what was going on with me. I'd always been pretty fucked up, but it was like all my skeletons were jumping out of my closet today. With every breath some memory resurfaced, and I had to shove it back down in the crypt and lock it away again. It was infuriating.

I was almost past the office and in the clear, when Emmett called out for me.

I stopped and squeezed my eyes closed, working to quell my anger. It wasn't his fault his brother was a half-crazed freak. "Yeah?" I croaked.

"Stay here with Bella for a sec, dude. I gotta take this call."

"What?"

"Keep her company." He glanced between us. "Here, I'll introduce you to make it less awkward or whatever. Edward, this is Bella Swan. Bella, my idiot brother, Edward. Ignore him if you want. I don't really care. Just do… something."

He pushed me over toward Bella hard, taking me by surprise. I stumbled and nearly slammed into the poor girl, catching myself on the side of the desk just before we collided.

"Fuck, Emmett," I snapped, "watch where you're throwing people."

He waved me off in his rush outside.

"I'm sorry," I said, stepping as far away from her as I could. "He was raised by bears. Our parents found him up on the mountain and brought him home. You might've seen documentaries about the feral kid the Cullen's took in. No? Well, you're not missing anything. It was pretty damn boring."

What the fuck was that?

Bella giggled, and so the nonsense just kept spewing out of my mouth.

"I'm dead serious. It's the only explanation I have for his behavior," I continued. I bit down on my tongue to stop it from flapping around stupidly.

"Your brother's sweet," she said softly.

I didn't answer that. I was certain that a laugh or smile was what I was supposed to do in return, but I wasn't really sure. "Socially inept" did not even begin to describe me.

I ran my hands through my hair and looked out to the garage. Every single man in this place was staring at us. More specifically, Bella. I snapped my teeth together as rage bubbled up inside me again, along with a strange feeling I couldn't seem to shake. I didn't know what it was; I just knew that I didn't like the thought of anyone looking at her like that. Like she was some sort of…

But was it really any different than what I'd done earlier? Fantasizing about her like that? She was beautiful. Any hot-blooded male in their right mind would want to be with her. Not to mention, I didn't have claim on her. I'd never have claim on her.

So it shouldn't matter.

"They're all staring at you," I growled lowly.

She blinked. "What?"

When I pointed out toward the garage, everyone instantly dropped their heads and went back to what they'd been doing before.

"Oh. I'm sure they're just trying to figure out if I'll be working here or not," she answered flippantly.

I watched a blush creep up into her cheeks and felt my dick pop up at attention, just like it had last night.

Which pissed me off more than anything else. Sex was the last thing I needed to be thinking about. Especially with someone so much better than me.

"You are, aren't you?"

"I am what?"

"Taking the job."

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah. Of course you are," I groaned angrily, shoving my hands through my hair.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, putting one hand on her hip and glowering over at me.

"It means that I would really rather you didn't. That's all."

Her mouth sprung open in surprise from my honesty. "God, you're rude, you know that?"

I shrugged, causing her to let out a little screech of frustration.

"You really don't care?"

"Not really."

She huffed. "Look, I want this job. Need this job. So as much as it pains me to say it, I figure if we're going to work together, I should at least try to be nice to you. But let me make something clear. If it were any other circumstance, I would introduce my kneecap to your balls right now."

My brows shot up. What was with these girls and physical violence today?

"You have that affect on me," she continued, trailing her fingers along the edge of the desk. "I just want to… hurt you when you talk to me like that."

If she was looking for an apology then she'd be waiting forever. I needed her to hate me. The more she hated me, the less I had to worry about her coming near me.

"Keep your knees away from my balls. I'm fairly attached to them," I replied instead.

Another little giggle burst free from her lips and she relaxed. "I'm sure you are. Boys are strangely attached to their… bits."

"And you're not?"

"Not like that. Of course, I don't really have anything of note, so it doesn't matter."

Oh, she had a warped view of herself, this one.

I flopped down into one of the chairs sitting against the wall and looked for something to do, because talking was not my forte. Another cigarette would be fucking sublime right about now, but I got the impression that Miss Swan here didn't like smokers. And while I'm usually the first one to blow smoke in someone's face just to get a rise out of them, I couldn't bring myself to pull out my pack and light up in front of her.

I ran my hands over my face. Christ, I was in trouble if I was already ignoring a craving for some random chick I didn't even know. Worse was that my body was still demanding to shut the blinds and bend her over the desk so I could touch every inch of her smooth skin and watch her body accept mine. I could feel it crackle in the air around me, and every breath—every step—Bella took pulled me closer and closer to the ledge. Her sweet scent filled the room, and the way her clothes clung to her every move… I was nearly ready to launch myself at her when she finally spoke again.

"So my dad tells me that you and your brothers were adopted," Bella said roughly, almost as if she felt it too.

Impossible.

I jerked myself out of the haze to answer her. "Yup."

"How old were you?"

I gritted my teeth so I didn't scream the answer. I hated people probing into my past. "Fourteen."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "I thought you'd be younger."

"Nope. I got the full experience of a shitty life in Chicago."

Her thin, dark brows furrowed with my words, but she didn't bother saying any more. It was like she could sense not to push me. And because she didn't, I suddenly wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to spill my secrets and feel the weight of them disintegrate from my shoulders. I wanted to tell her about my biological mother, my fucked up mother who needed a quick ticket out of town and threw her son to the wolves to get the money for her escape.

Surely if I told her, though, I'd watch her run away, screaming in the night. I was tainted. It was inevitable.

Emmett came back in the room and glanced between us. "You were nice to her, right?" he asked suspiciously.

Bella laughed. "He was fine. Well, as nice as he can be, I guess."

My brow quirked. "Are you calling me a dick?"

She smiled a slow, sexy smile that made my stomach do this unnecessary little flip. "If the shoe fits…"

"I'm almost inclined to take that as a compliment," I retorted with a sneer. "Almost."

This made her grin even wider.

Emmett's mouth dropped open in disbelief. He stared at me long enough to make me uncomfortable, and that was a feeling I'd just about had enough of recently.

"What is up your ass, dude?" I muttered. I scrambled for a cigarette, regardless of what I'd been thinking just a few minutes ago because of years of habitual behavior. The second I saw Bella drop back and cover her pretty little mouth with her hand, I held off on lighting it.

"Stop it, would you? I can't be around it."

Her words from last night tumbled through my brain, and I quickly understood that dislike wasn't the problem at all. Nor did it have anything to do with a simple allergy, most people's excuse, and everything to do with that scar that ran down the center of her chest.

Now the curiosity was unbearable.

"I'm going back out," I told them, not bothering to wait for Emmett to protest.

I rushed back over to where Sam was idly tapping his fingers on the fender of the 'Vette and lit my cigarette. This time, I was going to finish the damn thing, just to spite that ridiculous feeling of chivalry I had.

Since I'm a little bit of a pessimist and don't necessarily believe this nice lull in my RL will last, I'm going to pace myself a little slower on this fic. An update every other week for now, instead of once a week like I typically do, because the last thing I want to do is make anyone wait for an update, like with WYWG. That not only sucks for you guys, but it sucks for me too.

And now I will run and hide. See you on 8/10 :)