A/N: Dearest reader, I now present the 14th of many chapters of Static. Any guesses as to how many there are? (To those who already know, don't say anything.)

If you're familiar with my work then this chapter will probably be familiar to you - it was lifted from Esta Noche, a one-shot I wrote a long time ago. As you can tell, I've had Static in the works for a while now.

Sydney preread this chapter and I thank God for her everyday.

I own no part of Twilight.

Enjoy, as always.

XIV.

he prefers the exclusive kind

He didn't need to see her face, or hear her laughter, or feel her tears to have an idea that there was something daunting underneath the surface. Knowing too much would make things unbalanced, but surely enough, he would want to remember her face since she donned such interesting, intricate features that he couldn't quite say he loved yet, but he loved to stare at.

And he would want to remember her laughter as well, since it didn't come along often, but when it did, it was unforgettable. She had a genuine, breathy, honest laugh that seemed to echo in his mind, over and over. He had yet to see her tears, but that might be a good thing.

He was already fascinated, much to her ability and his surprise; seeing those chocolate brown eyes as wide as the moon in tears would break his sturdy (or was it really?) heart already. He felt like he knew this girl more than he really did, but he didn't even know what he knew about her yet, and in all honesty, it scared him. It made him shiver. It made him wince and ache and his palms start to sweat. More so, it made him want to stay. He wasn't a fucking coward.

That she was Bella Swan. Jacob knew her—of course he knew her—but he didn't know her. Maybe he didn't know that she, who had likely suffered through a few winters of her life, didn't walk the summer grass lightly. Maybe he didn't know that she had lived in different worlds all in one, leaving trails of thoughts and hearts behind her. Maybe he didn't know her that much at all when he brought himself back to reality, and maybe that was okay.

Bella's brown eyes squinted as she walked into the light, nearly blinded by the sun's first real rays of summer. He watched her from the side, the light perfectly complementing her profile. Her gait was a lanky one, her high heels in her hands and swaying in the wind. Jacob was unsure as to why she was carrying them instead of wearing them, and he didn't plan on finding out sometime tonight, though he might. She was mysterious in all the good ways, and the mysterious girls always had the most to say.

Her pale skin shivered as the warmth and light from the sun spread slowly across her body. She couldn't play the know-it-all tonight, especially now that he was seeing the truth. She'd been to Forks plenty of times, but she really hadn't been in the rare sun. She'd driven past forest after forest, but she hadn't taken the time to smell the air and realize, this isn't so bad without Edward after all.

She blinked, remembering what she was here for.

Bella looked over her shoulder and asked Jacob, "So are we going to go to dinner or not?"

Her dark brown waves spilled down to the middle of her back, and there were little tints of red in them in the light, which Jacob just noticed. Bella—this Bella, the Bella who stood in her backyard for minutes just to feel the sun and went on dates with boys she didn't like to make her father happy—seemed like she had a story for her hair alone. She seemed like the type to have a story for everything.

It had been her idea to take a little walk in her backyard before leaving, though, but Jacob didn't say anything. A story for her reasoning would occur, and he was just trying to get this date done by eight o'clock. He knew it wasn't genuine since she had called him for the first time ever two hours ago, but it was probably in his best interest to follow through.

With his hands stuffed deep down in the pockets of his nicest jeans, he nod over to his car, the Rabbit. "Alright," he said. "Let's go."

She shrugged like that wasn't her idea in the first place and slipped back into her heels, shifting her height from five-foot-four to five-foot-nine in an instant. Her pale legs appeared longer, stretching what seemed like miles and miles past her simple forest green dress that ended just a few inches above her knees.

His eyes traced the soft curves of her body, trying not to get too distracted by her cleavage, and even though they were both the same age and fresh out of high school, he couldn't help but realize damn. She had curves that didn't quit, and the nicest, fullest ass he'd ever seen on a white girl. She was a woman. She wasn't very good at walking like one, though, in those impossible heels, so he slowed down his pace for her a bit as they walked to the car.

"You don't have to slow down for me," she informs him. "I'm keeping up just fine. You're moving slower than a turtle."

"Isn't that the gentlemanly thing to do?" he asked.

She shrugged again. "Chivalry is overrated."

He raised his eyebrows. "Is it really?"

They approached his car, and he instinctively went to her side first to open the door. She gave him a disapproving look and he paused.

"Yes, Jacob," she told him. "It's overrated and outdated."

"Nice rhyme," he acknowledged.

"I do it all the time."

She opened her own door and got into the car, and he could only make a short prayer for himself as he made his way over to the driver's side. He'd never gotten so worried over a date in his entire life, and he was eighteen! It also didn't help to mention that this wasn't even a real date from what it looked like. It seemed like the kind of thing Billy and Charlie would set up since Jacob was just so, so hopeless in regards to girls. Billy forgot that Jacob had taken a girl to Prom, but she wasn't important anymore; she hadn't called him after the event.

Since Bella had been able to drive, Jacob had been keeping up with her pickup truck, a nineteen fifty-three Chevy that looked and ran mostly like crap, all year long just so she could drive it around all summer and never see him in La Push once. This date must have been organized under the realization that he'd been her free repair boy for years and that she hadn't thanked him yet. A card would have done the job, sure. But here he was, about to take her out for a burger. Tonight was the night, but then again, it was just one night. After tonight, she would never talk to him again (as if he really needed her to since, hey, she had her stuff going on and he had his). He could do this.

"So what brings you out on this date?" he asked as he started the trek from her house to a burger joint just outside La Push. He already had an idea why she was here, but he was curious as to what she was going to say.

It was only too bad that being curious with Bella wasn't much of a good thing.

"My dad says I need to thank you for the truck," she replied, "so thank you. But he's also doing this because I need 'distance.'" In the corner of his vision, he could see her making air quotes at the last word.

"Distance from what?" he wondered, his eyes on the road.

"My boyfriend," she stated, her words a bit slow and run together at the same time. "I love my boyfriend. I usually just spend my summers up here with him, but my dad's pissed all of a sudden, and, uh, now we need distance or something. It's really stupid."

She had a boyfriend, and not even just a regular boyfriend, but one she absolutely could not stay away from. Jacob called it. Okay, he hadn't call it, but he should've. He wasn't anticipating on dating Bella Swan after this date, but the chance was definitely dead.

He should've known, too. The really pretty girls always had boyfriends. The really sexy, interesting, fire-in-pants-starting ones were always fucking psycho. Everybody knew that. Jacob just couldn't tell if Bella was the latter type yet.

"I mean, it's not like this date is really stupid," Bella added on to spare Jacob's feelings. "So far, despite your old-as-dirt attempts at chivalry in this day and age, this date's going pretty well."

"All you've done is stand in your backyard."

"Yeah," she said as if she was thinking back a few years as opposed to a few minutes. "It was lovely."

Okay, I need to go home.

So with the mindset of no, she's not going to be interested in you; no, she's not even going to look at you; no, she's just going to brush you off as the kid she's supposed to fulfill the little dreams of even though you both are the same age, Jacob took her out. Tonight was not the night, after all. It was just one night. He would only be confused and slightly annoyed for tonight.

In a friendly manner, she linked her arm to his and smiled like a single lady out for a night on the town on a Tuesday night with a man she hadn't seen in forever (but oh, who are you kidding, she has a BOYFRIEND). He took her to the best burger spot in town. It was so great that they had to wait almost twenty minutes for a table, sitting on a bench, squished between plenty of other people. They were so close that the little black cardigan she wore over her dress was smushed up against the sleeve of his white dress shirt. He looked down, catching a good look of her cleavage, and quickly brought his gaze back up.

Their eyes met, and it was such a shame that she was already in a relationship. It was an even worse shame that she was probably crazy. She was more than just pretty, too; to Jacob, she was gorgeous. She stared at him with those doe eyes. She looked sort of jaded and lackluster, but it made him even more fascinated. If she were single and a little saner, he would be putting all his greatest moves out. At least, the best moves he had to offer.

Then again, her boyfriend was not here, he was not going to see her for the rest of the summer, and tonight was just one night.

They finally got a table, and it was all set off from there. The first thing she said after sitting down was, "Stop staring at my boobs."

This Bella wasn't the same girl who used to be as quiet as a mouse and afraid of her own shadow. She was much more candid now, as well as self-serving. She made the waitress wait a solid eight seconds before ordering her food because she was in the middle of telling a subplot to the initial story she was telling Jacob, only to stop talking for a few seconds to actually order and resume the second the waitress had their orders down.

Any other girl would be simple about where she came from or why she was where she was now or what she was doing, but not Bella. Definitely not this Bella.

"…So, anyway," she continued after taking a long sip of her cherry cola, "my mom was mad at me for entertaining the idea that I wasn't getting over my depression." She faltered, lost at her own words. Then she frowned. "I initially wasn't going to come here this summer, because not only did I not want to but also because things with my boyfriend got weird a while ago, but my mom insisted that because I am a Modern Adolescent Seeking a Great Perhaps or some shit, I had to fly up here from Phoenix. I guess it's not that bad 'cause my boyfriend's around and we kind of made up for the weirdness, even if my dad doesn't like me being around him too much, but I'm sort of stuck. I don't know if I want to go back to Phoenix at the end of the summer. I mean, shit, it's not like I have any business being there, but I don't have any business being here, either. It's been fucking with me."

She wasn't even talking at a million miles an hour; she was actually chill. Her eyes looked past Jacob, though, and he realized they were a bit red. She fanned at her eyes for a moment with her hand, and he become alarmed. Oh, shit.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

"There's no need to cry," he told her, not really sure how to approach this. "I understand." He actually didn't understand since he'd lived in the same place since he was born and never questioned it, but stating that didn't help any more than lying did.

She gave him a small smile and wiped at her right eye with a paper napkin. "Jacob, I'm not crying," she said. "I learned not to cry over a while."

He ignored her cryptic statement and asked, "Then what's wrong? Allergies? Do you need some—?"

She laughed—loudly. "Didn't I tell you?" she said. "I smoked a little weed before you picked me up."

His jaw dropped, and she let out a single laugh and continued speaking.

"I guess I'm just starting to feel it now," she said. "If my dad goes in my room and takes a whiff, he's gonna freak." Then she laughed again, harder and louder than before. She laughed and laughed until real tears filled her eyes. Jacob thought she was about to literally start rolling on the floor until the laughter began to die down, and she had to dab a napkin at her eyes.

Jacob wanted to say this date was going well, but whoops.

"You know," she said, staring at him from across the little table, "you're kinda cute. In fact, you're really cute."

"I'd say you're kinda high," he replied, "but in fact, you're really high."

She started to laugh again then looked down and brought her head back up, leaning forward and staring at him like he was crazy when things were the total opposite.

"I'd probably do you," she said, which, he could admit, caused him to mentally flip out even though she was as high as a kite.

"Yeah, okay," he said, denying it nevertheless.

"No, really," she replied. "You and me… it'd be kinda cool. Do you smoke weed, too?"

"No." Quil had moved away before he'd gotten the chance.

Her face stayed the same. "You should."

The date was going horribly and he wanted to go home, but there was really nothing to do at home. This was the first interesting thing he was doing all summer, and it was August. "I'd rather not."

"What are you doing later on?" she wondered.

"Nothing." At least it was an honest answer.

"Then hang out with me," she purred.

"No."

"Please?" Her lower lip jutted out in an attractive pout.

You must be fucking Superman with the strength you've got going on tonight. "No."

"Be a gentleman."

"Chivalry is overrated and outdated," he quoted.

She snorted and laughed again. "Well, shit," she said.

"Does your dad know you smoke weed to make excruciatingly boring dates more tolerable?" he wondered.

"He's a cop, if you don't remember."

"I swear to God you didn't even remember for a second."

"Oh."

He stared at her and realized that not only was she pretty and taken, but she was also very, very nuts. He was no longer jealous of her boyfriend; he felt bad for him.

"Hmm," she murmured.

"What?"

"I wouldn't do you after all," she informed him, running her index finger up and down the cold glass in front of her. He watched as she moved, careful not to look at her cleavage. She just might punch him if he did. "Even if you're really cute," she added.

"And why's that?" he wondered, not because he wanted her to particularly "do" him at this moment (who the hell are you kidding?), but because he couldn't sense the transition between the quick decisions.

She shrugged and laced her fingers, bringing them up to rest under her chin. "Because I love my boyfriend."

"Okay."

She smiled, not sensing the sarcasm. "Okay," she repeated.

Their orders arrived, and Bella didn't tell any more stories. She just asked questions that he'd rather not answer.

Licking salt from her fingertips and picking up another French fry from her basket, she asked, "Have you ever gotten to third base?"

He swallowed, nearly choking. "No," he said defensively.

"That sucks." Her tone was monotonous, unaffected by how much she surprised—and continued to surprise—him.

"Yeah," he said solemnly.

"Do you even know what third base is?" she challenged.

"I'm not twelve."

"Well, color me fucked and surprised. Jake, you're such a baby. You don't smoke weed or have sex or anything. You haven't done anything. You're like a baby to me."

"I'm two months younger than you," he reminded her. "That's, like, nothing."

"It's nothing when you're eighty. When you're eighty, you're not even gonna realize it until one day you're sitting at home, watching TV or something, and realize, 'Shit, I'm eighty.'"

He sighed. He just wanted to go home. That was all. "Whatever you say, Bella."

"Don't get all defeated just because I'm right. You don't have to let me win this because I'm a girl."

He actually let her win this because she didn't make any sense. "Is this another chivalry slam?" he asked.

"No," she said thoughtfully. "It's a personal one. You're soft."

"Fine," he admitted. "I'm a big softie."

"Looks like I'll have to call you Puddin'," she said, her voice relaxed.

When he thought about it, he wouldn't mind being her Puddin', but that wouldn't help the situation at all.

He checked his watch. "We've been here a while," he observed, even though it really hadn't been that long. Then he took notice of her empty basket. Looks like the munchies are real.

"Let's go, then," Bella quickly said, sliding back and out of her chair. It was like she was in a rush, and Jacob didn't have to ask to know who she was just dying to see after this horrific date. It couldn't have been that bad, though, could it? It certainly wasn't expected for a first (and only) date, but it wasn't boring.

He didn't ask what she thought of the date when he paid the bill and got back into the Rabbit. Bella had already taken him on a ride of confusion; she could at least spare his feelings. If the date sucked, it sucked. He didn't need to know, though. He really was soft; Puddin' was such a suiting nickname.

After parking the Rabbit in Bella's driveway, empty except for her truck (Where's her father? The possibilities are endless), he walked her up to the front door. It was the gentlemanly thing to do, and she didn't fight it this time.

"Thanks, Jake," she told her calmly as they stood on her porch. Ending a strange date on a traditional, wholesome note sounded so wrong. "That was really sweet."

"It's no problem," he replied. "It was nice seeing you again. Now it'll get your dad off your back, huh?"

She smiled. She may have been nuts, but she was really cute at the same time. What a deathtrap. "I hope so," she agreed, her voice slow and still intoxicated.

The words slipped out before he could think them through. "Will I see you again sometime soon?" he wondered.

She leaned in for a hug. Her hands rubbed against his back, squeezing at the muscles, and then slid down to his hips. He jump a little, but it was a bit typical of her, especially now that he knew how she was and what she was about.

"Of course," she said softly in his ear. "I'll corrupt you next time I see you, so be prepared." Her hands lingered down to his posterior, and he swore to God he was gonna go as insane as she was and maybe even kiss her and—

"But I love my boyfriend," she added.

Typical.

He pulled out of the hug, but her hand managed to latch onto his, their fingers laced like they were lovers instead of semi-strangers. They both sighed at the same time.

"Thanks," she said.

His fingers slowly pulled away from hers. "Uh-huh," he replied sheepishly, starting to make his way back to the Rabbit, but she called his name.

He turned around. "Yes?"

"Are you sure you don't want to come inside for a while?"

His bottom lip was between his teeth as he considered. He had nothing to do, and she had nothing to do, either. They could both be a couple of nothings together. He'd get stoned with and probably bone Bella Swan in her bedroom and live to tell the tale. It didn't sound too bad, but tonight was just one night. Maybe all he needed was just some sleep and a chance to recover from tonight.

So alas, he shook his head no. She looked disappointed at her front door as he made his way back to his car. He was soft. Soft as fucking pudding. He was Bella Swan's little Puddin' from La Push, the Puddin' she'd never, ever visit unless he was looking to get high from her stash or get off from her body, and there was no way to shake that. At the same time, though, he didn't want to. In regards to Bella Swan, Jacob just didn't know what he wanted.

Bella finally went into her house, and it was then that Jacob comprehend that he actually knew this girl more than he ever intended to. He wished he had remained on a strictly mechanic basis with her. How could he ever shake off someone as peculiar as Bella Swan?

It was a shame that she wouldn't talk to him ever again, but tonight was just one night. Nothing more, nothing less. Anything else would be completely unbalanced.

A/N: If this doesn't make sense right now, it will. Come Wednesday, chapter 15 will be up and some confusion will be resolved. Thoughts?

Thanks as always,

HS