So sorry about the unannounced break, I was hit with a combination of intense writer's block and a need to embroider as many shitty patches as I could. This week, Bella grapples with the consequences of her decision to avoid Edward and a little more of the quote-unquote plot arrives. Next week, Bella goes to a party (and, for the story of two side characters at that same party, keep your eyes peeled for the newest chapter of Gratitude, an Angeleah fic, which will hopefully go up at the same time).

The world felt a little colder when I woke up on Friday morning. I lay in bed after my alarm went off, staring up at the ceiling.

I had made the right decision. I knew what I wanted and Forks wasn't it.

Right?

I wasn't sure anymore. But that was another argument in favor of leaving Forks, though, wasn't it? I was used to knowing my own mind, even if I didn't always make the smartest choice for myself while trying to be considerate to someone else. Something about the town was making me uncertain, like… something was changing. Like I was changing. The thought made me feel uncomfortable.

Previously the cold light of morning brought the realization that I was doing something foolish and impetuous. Like consorting with vampires. Or calling the FBI on said vampires. But this was the opposite of that—I was making the sensible choice. Practicality was my middle name… so why was I feeling so unsatisfied?

I threw the covers back and hauled myself out of bed. Maybe a hot shower would clear my head.

My phone buzzed several times during Spanish. I ignored it, trying to pay attention to the teacher's lecture on grammar. It was hard, until I remembered that being bilingual would probably be a huge boost in a reporting job. That gave me a motivation that I usually lacked in Mrs. Goff's class. I did my best to take notes on the difference between qué and cuál and managed to stay engaged until the bell rang.

I forgot about my phone as I hurried to the cafeteria, hoping that I would feel better after eating. I collected a black bean burrito from the lunch line, then sat at the opposite side of the usual table, facing away from where I knew the Cullens would be. I knew I would have to face him again in Biology, but—weakly—I wanted to postpone the inevitable. I was not part of their world, but it made me sad to exist so close to it.

I ate in silence, not paying much attention to the chatter around me. It wasn't hard—most of it was about the dance, a subject that I couldn't be less interested in if I tried. Lauren was sulking dramatically, making vague statements and clearly trying to get someone to ask her what was the problem. Conner finally obliged.

"I asked Edward if he wanted to grab coffee sometime since he's single—" she paused to shoot a haughty glance my way—"and he just stared at me. The Cullens are so rude." Conner and Austin both bristled—the fact that they were jostling for Lauren's attention was popular knowledge—but she either didn't notice or didn't care. She shot another look at me, angrier this time. "I guess he just thinks he's too good for anyone from Forks."

Jessica cut her off firmly by redirecting the conversation to who would start dating and who would break up after the dance, which was apparently a source of yearly speculation. I sighed, then finally checked my texts. It was Jake, inviting me to a party on Saturday. if u want 2, he was hasty to add. no biggie.

I grimaced. I couldn't think of anything I wanted to do less. prob not. thx tho.

: (, he replied.

My stomach felt like lead as I walked to Biology, dreading seeing Edward again. I should have waited until today to excuse myself from his world—I would have had all weekend to really come to terms with it.

He was already there, in his seat. He nodded once as I approached—polite, aloof, utterly uncaring.

I slid into my seat, trying not to bite my lip. This is what I want! So why was it so hard to make myself stick to it? It felt like I was missing something that I didn't know that I had once had.

Maybe I had made a mistake. No! I was making the right choice. The practical choice. I was choosing my future—the future I had been planning this entire time.

I buried the nagging doubt deep. I had spent my entire life making the choices that my mother had not—working for good grades, planning ahead, trying to put down roots wherever I could. Ignoring boys. I wasn't ready to stop now.

Instead of going straight home, I headed to the Newtons' outdoor-slash-hardware store. I had a copy of my resume, printed on the nicest cardstock the library had, tucked neatly into a folder. If Mr. Newton was still hiring, I would have a chance to keep my mind off of—no, I corrected myself quickly, a chance to save money towards college. Scholarships and grants only went so far.

It was raining—like always—as I trudged into the store. My boots squelched on the linoleum floor, almost drowning out the sound of the bell above the door.

"Why, it's little Isabella," a voice boomed from behind the counter. It was Mr. Newton, leaning on one arm, looking completely at home in his surroundings. Charlie probably owned that same worn flannel, I mused to myself. "Come on over here and lemme get a look at you."

I shuffled in, feeling out of place. "Um, hi."

"You've sure shot up since last I saw you! That would've been, oh, four-five year ago now, I reckon. Just a kid." He sighed, sounding nostalgic. "How's yer mother doin' these days? Still in good ole Texas?"

"No," I answered. "She and Phil are in—Jacksonville, I think." I hadn't heard yet whether his latest tryouts had been successful; if not, they would be moving on to Atlanta soon.

"Oh, Florida! That's a swampy country, hotter'n hell and twice as humid." He laughed at his joke. "I don't envy her! No sirree, I don't envy her one bit."

I looked out the window at the pouring rain. Complaining about humidity didn't make much sense when your town was literally drenched.

"But that's enough of me yammering on," he continued, possibly in the same breath. "What can I do you for?"

"Charlie mentioned you might be hiring, so I thought I would come down and ask." I clutched the folder anxiously.

"As it happens, I'm lookin' for another clerk. You worked in a store before?"

"A bookstore, yes." I stood up straight, trying to make my voice sound confident.

"Got anything other'n school what needs to be scheduled around?"

"No, sir."

"Can you count cash?"

"Uh, yes." Most of the time.

"Well, okay then. Yer hired." He held out a big hand and I shook it, my heart leaping into my throat at my success.

"Thank you, sir!"

"Oh, call me Dave. All the kiddies are gettin' this weekend off on account of the dance, but Mike'll start training you on the particulars on Monday."

"Okay, um, Dave." I smiled at him, a little shyly. "I'll be here after class on Monday."

"Good, good!" He waved his hands, shooing me away. "If you got a minute, why don't you wander 'round the store 'n get an idea of where everything is at?"

"Okay!" I let myself be shooed, choosing the nearest aisle and plunging bravely down it. I didn't know what half of the things on the shelves were for, but I glanced at every name anyway.

Across the store, the bell jingled again. I ignored it, turning down the next aisle to peruse the different kinds of hiking and work boots.

"Well, howdy there," Mr. Newton—Dave, I corrected myself—called out. "What can I do you for?"

"Howdy yourself," a low, melodious voice said. A pause followed, then: "Have you seen this man in town? He might be calling himself James."

"Nope, I ain't seen anyone like him," Dave replied. "Mean-looking, ain't he?"

"You might say that."

I peered around the corner to see a woman with a mass of curly red hair standing at the counter. She turned as though she had heard me, though I was sure I hadn't made any sound. I was immediately captured by her face—it was equal parts beautiful and dangerous.

"How about you, dear?" she asked. "I'm a private investigator, looking for this man."

I glanced at the face on the page, mildly interested. Then very interested. The man in question was the vampire who had attacked me in Port Angeles. I looked back at her, suddenly noticing how bright her eyes were. Much brighter than I had ever seen Edward's. Meeting her gaze was like looking into the sun. How had I not noticed the first time I had looked at her?

"Um," I said, realizing that the silence was becoming uncomfortable. "Maybe. I'm not sure." My brain was going at a hundred miles an hour. The woman in front of me was a vampire—I was sure of that. Perhaps she was one of the Volturi, or from some other important coven, hunting down my attacker for breaking some law or other. If that was the case, I wanted to be helpful… but she would surely ask follow-up questions, with answers that would reveal that I, too, was breaking the most important law. I felt nauseous.

"He might have been lurking around the high school, or walking along the main street. Look closely, can you remember having seen him?"

A chill ran down my spine at the thought of him lurking outside of a high school, but especially mine. Could she tell whether or not I was lying? I decided to try and make it less obvious. "Oh my god, that's so creepy! I don't know, I might have seen him."

"Has anything strange happened here lately?" she pressed, stepping closer. "Mysterious disappearances, unsolved crimes?"

"I mean, there were a couple of cougar attacks outside of town. You don't think that could have been him, do you?" It wasn't hard to sound horrified.

"I can't say for sure," she said, "but it's in everyone's best interests if I find him."

"My dad is the chief of police here, maybe you should get in touch with him."

Her eyes shifted slightly. She definitely didn't want to do that. "I'll see about that." She closed the distance between us in a smooth movement. I had to force myself not to step back, but I managed to stand my ground as she handed me a business card. "If you think of anything else, please give me a call," she purred.

I smiled weakly. "I'll do that."

She breezed out of the store without further ado and I felt myself starting to shake as the gravity of what had just happened began to set in. Even when I removed myself from the supernatural world, it seemed to seek me out. I looked down at the card, reading the no-nonsense typeface that proclaimed Victoria Howard, Private Investigator.

"I hope she catches up with him!" Dave boomed, looking out the door after her. "She's got spunk, that one. Wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of her."

"Um, yeah." I hardly knew what I was saying. "Um, I need to get home. I'll be back on Monday."

"I'll see you then! Hope y'all have a great time at that Sadie Hawkins."

"Thanks!" I didn't bother trying to explain that I didn't plan on going, opting instead to just leave. I looked carefully up and down the street, making sure that Victoria was no longer in sight before I headed to my truck.

What would Edward have to say about this? I wondered as I drove home. If he doesn't know, maybe I should—no. Don't make excuses to talk to him. You ripped the band-aid off, now stop picking the scab.

But I couldn't stop thinking about him, and the prospect of spending a long Saturday alone with my thoughts felt utterly depressing. As I pulled into my driveway, I came to a decision. Before I could second-guess myself, I pulled out my phone and texted Jacob. change of plans, i'm coming 2 the party.

! he texted back immediately. gr8. can't w8. my house 8.

I headed straight for my bedroom, slinging my bookbag over the rocking chair in the corner, refusing to think about how much Edward had looked like he belonged there. At best, I reasoned, I would have an enjoyable night with Jacob and some of his friends. At worst, I would be too miserable about being at a party to have any time left over to be miserable about the Cullens.

Win-win?