A/N: I don't own Twilight or anything else that may be familiar to you while reading this.

So here is chapter 82 of Static. (Also, I lied about chapter 81 being the longest. It turns out, it's like the 5th longest chapter, so I was... off.) But, anyway, chapter 82 is a little shorter and a little more dramatic. You'll see.

Enjoy.

LXXXII.

summer friends don't stick around

Three weeks after Independence Day, Leah sat in the chair next to the telephone in her mother's old house, twirling the long, beige, 70s style cable around her finger. She peered around the house as she waited for Quil to pick up the phone. Cardboard boxes were stacked and scattered throughout, and Seth was packing even more of them. The Clearwaters were finally moving on.

What had been her childhood home now looked like an empty skeleton, except all that remained was the heart. Plenty of things had changed, as well as the people who had occupied the house, but the house itself had remained static. It was the same home that had existed when Harry Clearwater had lived. It was the home that Sue had lived in before she had ever been diagnosed with breast cancer. It was the same home that Seth's asthma had been the worst in. The heart would always stay, though.

Leah loved the stability of the home. She loved the telephone even more because, despite its age, it worked perfectly fine. It was the most stable of all.

Quil finally picked up the phone. "Seth?" he asked.

"No, it's Leah," she said. "Took you long enough to pick up."

"Why are you calling on a landline, anyway?" he asked.

"I have a flip phone with a limited amount of minutes," she replied, and he could almost see her roll her eyes through the phone. "I'm fuckin' poor."

"Okay, so what's going on?"

"Because I don't hate all of you that much," she began, "I'm throwing a party at the beach. Well, not a party-party, 'cause, again, I'm poor, but I wanna see all of you."

"Aw, you're so gushy," Quil teased.

"Yeah, sure," she said sarcastically, but since she had realized that so many people were leaving and things might never ever be the same after this summer, she felt a need to be good and do good. She wanted to surround herself with the people she tolerated the most before she lost such easy accessibility to them.

"When's the party?" he asked.

"Tomorrow night at eight."

"Shit," he said.

"What, you have something going on?" she asked.

"I got my first gig."

"No shit?" she asked semi-excitedly.

"Nuh-uh."

"Where at?"

"The Metta Room," he told her. "It's in downtown Port Angeles."

"Ooh," she said. "Pretty bougie."

"Like everything else in Port Angeles. It's gonna get a little ghetto tomorrow, though."

"Well, good luck," Leah said. "We'll be thinking about you at the party."

"Oh, I'll show up," he said. "You said it's at eight, right?"

"Yeah, it's at eight. You don't have to do that, though. You've got your first show. I don't want you messing that up."

"Nothing's getting messed up," he promised. "I'll be there for a little bit and then head out."

"Fine. Were you gonna invite the rest of us to the show or are you afraid of it getting really ghetto as opposed to a little bit?"

"I didn't invite you guys because it's not that close by, I'm pretty sure the venue is twenty-one and over, and you've already heard the mixtape, anyway."

"I guess."

"What's your favorite track?" he wondered.

"Uh." She glanced over to his CD sitting on one of the boxes, collecting dust. The last time she'd listened to it was at the party. She just couldn't get past the first track and how she had effortlessly stolen his lifelong crush right from under him. She smiled to herself.

"The one about being Vine famous," she guessed. Knowing Quil, that was probably the subject of one of the songs.

"'Loop That Shit,'" he said.

"Right," she said as if she knew what he was talking about. "Well, that's my favorite one. I'll see you tomorrow night, okay?"

"See ya."

Leah hung up and immediately dialed Jacob's number. She tried his cell phone, which she still knew by heart, and he answered much quicker than Quil had.

"Hey, Leah," he said upon answering.

"How'd you know it wasn't Seth?" she wondered.

"I don't know, I had a feeling," he said.

"Hmm. Well, tomorrow night at eight I'm trying to have a get-together at the beach with everyone. So far, everyone said they'd go. Wanna come?"

"Lee, I'd love to," he said, but he sounded like he really wouldn't love to. "I've just been really busy with work and everything. Tired, too."

"You'll get to let loose a little," she said. "And it won't be the same without you."

"I'm not that sure," he replied. "I've just… I've never really felt part of the group like that, you know?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "You have a life. Not everyone can say that. It's just that… So many people are moving at the end of the summer. Things are changing. I wanna see everyone. I wanna see you."

She hoped to whatever God there was that she wasn't coming off as desperate as she really was, but at the same time, he was Jacob. She didn't want to be with him, but she didn't want to be without him, either. He had really grown to be a confidante of hers, and he was static. She still wasn't used to the fact that soon, he wouldn't be right where he always was. She wasn't upset, but it would be a lot for her to adjust to.

Stop making it about you, she told herself. He's doing this so HE can be better, stupid.

Her feelings must have gone through the phone, then, because Jacob finally told her, "Okay. I'll go."

She smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"You don't have to go because I asked you to, you know," she told him. "I didn't mean to pressure you." Except I did.

"Yeah, you did," he said bluntly. At least he wasn't sugarcoating it. "But I'm gonna go because I want to."

"Thank you, Jake," she said. "Really. For everything."

"It's no problem, Lee. I've got you."

"Alright, well, I'll see you next time," she said.

"Next time," he promised.

The next evening was warm, but with a slight chill. Just like La Push. Just like First Beach and Forks and Port Angeles and everything that anybody in the group had ever known. Summer had a certain taste to it: warmth, nostalgia, love. It also had a bittersweet aftertaste, because after summer, nothing really was the same. People and things would change, but they would snap right back in time for the next summer, because that was when everything mattered.

Jacob wouldn't snap back, though. He would never see a breezy summer in La Push again. While his last summer hadn't been particularly normal, his next summer wouldn't be anything like this.

He was driving back from work on his Harley Sprint at around 8:30 that evening. He was closer to Forks than Port Angeles, but he was still faced with a long, winding road surrounded by absolutely nothing. He was in boonies. The bare heart of the badlands. Plenty of awful things had happened out here, and plenty more awful things would continue to happen out here, all because there was nobody around. People didn't know how to act when nobody else was around to watch.

The only thing that really occupied Jacob's mind besides I told Leah I would go, so I'm going was the thought of Lizzie. He would be moving to Portland with her towards the end of August, and that was the only positive thing he was really holding onto. Despite his father constantly assuring him that he could take care of himself, Jacob felt that he was leaving him for dead. He felt that he was no better than his sisters, but at the same time, why did his sisters get to be free while he had to be confined to the badlands? Yes, the badlands (and Leah) kept pulling him back, but wasn't he strong enough?

Lizzie made him strong enough. She was smart. Wild smart. She knew how to read Jacob like a book. Fairly early into their young relationship, she had told him he was at war with himself. He knew that. Everybody knew that. But she was the only person who got him to finally let go. To just ride. That was when he had decided to build a motorcycle again, and while he wasn't healed, he was on his way. His soul was still lost, but he was slowly finding it. It was slowly coming back into his grip.

With Lizzie, he didn't feel so guilty leaving the badlands.

If I don't get out now, I never will.

He held onto that as he continued to drive home. The road was mostly empty, except for the three black pickup trucks behind him. They kept their distance, but Jacob wondered why they drove in a triangular formation, taking up both sides of the road with the one in the front right in the middle. Granted, the road was empty, but it was still a strange sight.

He peered into his side mirror. The three trucks were getting even closer to him. He tried to swerve so they could pass him, but they stayed right on his back. They kept getting closer, and Jacob was trying to take off, but they kept up. He would go fast, but they would also go fast.

What the fuck is your problem? he thought.

Jacob tried to swerve again when the truck in the front and center immediately swerved with it. Before he could even register what was going on, Jacob had been knocked off his bike and was rolling all over the ground, his bike falling on top of him.

Suddenly, his helmet had been thrown off his head, and a face concealed by an eerie skeleton mask was the last thing he saw.

Jacob woke up in the very same position, except he had been dragged into the back of a speeding truck and his wrists and ankles were sloppily tied up with duct tape. He must have not been out for very long, because the sun still hadn't set yet.

Edward Cullen took off his mask, and underneath it was an unsettling smile. "There he is," he said, a creepy tone to his voice.

Jacob spent a while trying to figure out where he had seen Edward before. He couldn't figure it out, but he knew that he had seen him at least once before now.

"Who the hell are you?" Jacob demanded. "And why'd you knock me off my bike, you fuckin' ass—"

Edward suddenly slapped him hard in the face. It could have hurt worse, but it was the most emasculating thing Jacob had ever felt.

"You hit like a girl," he said, his face stinging.

"Listen, Jacob," Edward began. "I'm doing you a favor."

"How the hell do you know my name?"

"Jacob Black, I know everything about you. I know where you live. I know where you work. I know who you hang out with. I know just about everything. It wasn't that hard to figure out."

"You're fucking crazy. You're a stalker. How the hell do you know all that?"

"Not important," Edward said curtly. "What's important is that you know who I am and what I want."

Then Jacob put it all together. This was the guy who had been crying on TV over the murder of his brother back in March. A bone-deep chill ran through Jacob.

That was when Edward reached into his back pocket and pulled out a gun. He brought it close to Jacob's face in a teasing manner, and Jacob tried his very hardest not to freak out.

"If you can tell me something," he continued, "I just might not kill you."

"We're on the way, Lee," Bella lied into the phone and she tried to put on mascara without a mirror, slip on her shoes, and fix her hair all at once. She hastily finished these tasks and was in a frantic search for her denim jacket.

Paul, ready to go, held her jacket out to her. "Thank you," she said. "No, sorry, that was to Paul. We're still on the way. I'll see you soon. Bye." She hung up.

"You all ready?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "You should have told me about this party a long time ago, though. We wouldn't be an hour late if that was the case."

"I swear I told you the second Leah called me," he replied as they headed out the front door of their house in La Push.

"Well, you didn't," she said. "I just don't know why she didn't call me first."

They got into his car. "No use in arguing about it now," he said.

She shut the door to the passenger side. "I'm not arguing with you," she said, her voice slightly annoyed.

He rested his hand on her protruding, six months pregnant stomach, which he was now overly fond of doing. "Then don't worry about it," he told her.

He pulled out of the driveway, and just around the corner swerved the three black pickup trucks. The one in front still held Edward and Jacob in the back.

Paul peered into his rearview mirror, and in the distance, he could see the driver of the first truck. He was wearing a skeleton mask. It looked just like the ones that the guys in the old Port Angeles chop shop used to wear before they all decided it looked stupid.

Dumb-asses, Paul thought. It hadn't been dark for long by this point, but the trucks all drove with their headlights off.

"Eyes on the road," Bella said, her voice tense.

"Shit, sorry." Paul blinked and focused on the road ahead. The trucks, in a triangle formation, followed behind from a significant distance. As Paul drove to the beach, he kept thinking they would eventually turn and head some other direction, but they stayed right on him.

Bella didn't notice they were still behind them until they pulled into the parking lot of First Beach. Paul parked, and the trucks all circled the car, surrounding them. Paul turned off the car, and as everything became dark inside, the trucks all turned on their lights.

"Paul?" Bella asked. "What's happening—?"

"Shh," he said quietly. "These guys are from the chop shop."

"I thought you stopped messing with them."

His voice was just above a whisper. "I did. Stay right here."

He got out of the car, not expecting her to follow, but she followed him, anyway. Just before she got out, she reached into the glove compartment—underneath the stacks of miscellaneous papers—and pulled out the gun that Kim had given her at Quil's party. She slipped it against the waistband of her pants, at her side, and covered it up with her jacket.

When she opened the car door, she was immediately pulled out by a man with an eerie skeleton mask and rough hands. "Hey, be careful," she protested.

"Shut the fuck up," he said.

He pushed her towards the front of the car, across from Paul, and the bright lights of all the trucks were blinding.

"What the fuck is going on?" Bella heard someone say. Bella looked towards the beach, and everybody was walking up. They must have wondered why the parking lot suddenly got so bright.

Bella visually scanned the group. Leah, Kim, Quil, Embry, Seth, Emily, Sam… It was everybody else except…

"Oh, my God, Jacob!" Leah cried out.

Jacob was being pulled out of a truck and dragged to the center by two guys in masks. The tape around his ankles had been removed, but his wrists were still taped up. There were cuts all over his face, and he was bleeding in a few places. He looked exhausted, but there was a frantic, scared look in his eyes. He was tightly held next to Paul, who had an angry expression on his face. The both of them stood across from Bella, who was stoic.

All the other guys in the trucks got out, holding baseball bats and wearing the same mask. Overall, there were about twelve of them. Then the thirteenth one, being Edward wearing a mask, emerged from the back, except he wielded a handgun. He walked to the center of it all, swinging the gun in Bella's face, and then turning to do the same to Paul and Jacob. Bella just closed her eyes. Jacob looked away. Paul stared at him dead in the eyes, not even fazed. Paul Lahote wasn't afraid of anything.

Edward took off his mask once again, and Bella knew she shouldn't have been surprised, but she was. Paul just looked angrier.

Leah could hear Emily murmur, "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" There were similar responses coming from Quil, Embry, Seth, and Sam. Kim was slightly shaking. Leah grabbed her hand and held onto it like her life depended on it.

Everything was dead silent until Paul asked Edward, "What the fuck do you want now?" He tried to move forward, clearly pissed off, but he was still being held back by Edward's guys.

"You know what I want," Edward said. Then he turned to the rest of the Quileutes. "You all know what the fuck I want."

"I already told you what I know," Bella said, her voice quiet. "You don't have to be so dramatic, Edward."

"Oh, right, I'm the dramatic one now," he said, turning to her. "You just shut the hell up."

"Don't fucking talk to her like that," Paul said. "You know what happened last time you tried that shit."

Edward went over to him and punched him in the face with the gun. "Shut up," he told him.

Paul just spat hard and fast into his face. "Pussy," he muttered.

"Paul, don't," Bella said.

Edward gave a twisted, wicked smile and socked Paul in the face with his fist. It wasn't the worst that Paul had gotten—it wasn't like he hadn't been hit before. It just wasn't the easiest to take.

"What, is that all you got?" Paul challenged. "Get your little bitches to let go of me and we can settle this, man to man."

"Paul, stop!" Bella said from across the clearing, louder this time.

"Shit, Bella," Edward said. "All you ever do is protect him. If he would just admit that he killed my brother, then this would all be over."

"I didn't kill nobody!" Paul yelled. "I told you this before, and I'm telling you this again—I don't know who the fuck killed your brother. It's old news, and he was a dumb-ass, anyway. He was fucking with the wrong people, and he had it coming."

Edward pointed the gun right in his face. "Do you want to say that again, motherfucker?" he asked.

"Nobody gives a fuck about your dead brother," Paul said, calm as ever.

Edward just turned away and stepped towards Jacob, pointing the gun at his head. He looked back at Bella. "You fucked this guy, too, right?" he asked her. "You could never stay away from the reservation, no matter what I told you." He gestured to her baby bump. "That's obvious, though."

"Jacob has nothing to do with this," Bella said. "He's done nothing wrong."

"Is that so?" Edward asked, tapping the muzzle of the gun against Jacob's temple. "Is that so, Jacob?" The frantic look in his eyes never went away. Jacob was so terrified, and Edward knew. He laughed in his face.

Leah couldn't do anything but cover her mouth and try not to cry. Jacob never wanted to come, she thought. He never wanted to come, but he came for me and now this is happening.

"So who's it going to be?" Edward asked, bringing the gun away from Jacob and pointing it at Paul again.

"None of us did it," Bella said. "It doesn't have to be anybody."

"Bella, you're a liar," he said. "You've always been one. When you would steal from me. When you would run off without saying anything. Lying doesn't get you anywhere."

"Like you're the poster child for honesty, right?" she asked. "Since you're such a saint."

"I'm not a murderer," he nearly shouted. He gestured to the other Quileutes. "One of you is, though. Either somebody speaks up or somebody has to pay."

"Edward, you're fucking crazy," Bella said. "You have no idea who did it. Nobody here does. It sucks that your brother's dead, but that doesn't mean you get to come here and threaten us like a fucking psycho and—"

Quil suddenly stepped up next to Paul and Jacob. "I did it," he confessed, his voice clear. "I killed your brother."

Edward turned around with an incredulous look on his face. It matched the expressions of just about everybody else there, except Emily and Embry, and that was because they already knew.

"Oh, my god," Kim gasped. Leah just squeezed her hand in response.

"I killed him," Quil repeated. "And I took his twenty bucks."

Then it was dead silent. Edward looked over to Paul, Jacob, and Quil's direction, lifted his gun, and fired a bullet.

That was when the screaming began.

A/N: *eyes emoji* Until next time.

Thanks as always,

HS