Happy New Year! I hope that you and yours are well and that 2024 is at least better than last year.
Writer's block unfortunately continues to plague me, but I do go back to work on Monday and given that my commute is my usual writing time, hopefully I at least start making progress next week.
For now, enjoy this next instalment :)
Chapter 9: Fragments
Time was sliding by quickly again, but for entirely different reasons this time. Before I had been lost in the haze; now I was simply too occupied to pay much attention to the changing of days, beyond keeping track of what day of the week it was to help plan out my various distractions. A cycle gradually developed of school, work, and Jules – and within her time, of bikes, homework, and hiking – making my life comfortably predictable. I knew I had fulfilled Charlie's wish for me not to be miserable anymore, but I also recognised that this wasn't happiness, not yet. There were happy moments, certainly, most of them spent in La Push, but true happiness was still beyond my reach, and perhaps always would be. Not to mention that when I really thought about what I was doing to find those feelings (something I avoided doing if I could help it) I was confronted with the implications of my behaviour.
I likened myself to a small moon, once attached to a planet that had been destroyed in some great cataclysm, still stubbornly circling the spot where it used to be, even when every law of physics and gravity said I should go spinning off into the black emptiness of space. Perhaps it was my new sun keeping me in orbit now, perhaps I was just pulled in by the tiny leftover fragments of my former world; either way, I was defying nature every day I continued to cling to that empty space.
I gave Beau his week, then quietly returned to the bikes. We developed a subtle shorthand to keep my activities hidden from Charlie while maintaining my promise to keep him informed; if I said I was going to the garage, that meant I was actually going riding, whereas just hanging out meant we were doing something else. He made sure I always had my phone on me and insisted on a text when I was on my way home, once again subtly coded – a smiley face if I was uninjured and coming straight back, and a sad one if we were headed for the hospital, which he knew meant he had to keep near the phone to intercept any calls from meddling doctors.
It was both gratifying and frustrating that I didn't have to send too many sad faces, because I was gradually getting better with the bikes and taking fewer spills that required medical intervention. Gratifying because it kept Beau happy, so he played along and didn't complain about how much I was monopolising the truck. Frustrating, because losing the dangerous element meant that the voice faded away until I could get through an entire afternoon on the bike and not hear him even once. In response, I became almost frantically determined to find the meadow, only just keeping my panic under wraps during our Sunday hikes. I was also wracking my brains for other activities with the right mix of adrenaline and stupidity, but nothing came to mind that was easily accessible given my travel limitations and the need to be home for dinner every night.
I was so absorbed by all this, so determined to keep both the painful past and the frightening future out of my thoughts, that my awareness of the actual date slipped away from me, and I was caught completely off guard when Beau and I pulled up outside Jules' house one homework afternoon to find her holding two boxes of chocolates decorated with gaudy red hearts that could mean only one thing.
"Happy Valentine's Day," she greeted us as she bounced into the cab, handing us each a box. "Please accept these tokens of friendship, on the clear understanding that they mean nothing else and we are not going to make a big deal out of it."
I blinked a few times, feeling stupid. "It's Valentine's Day?"
Beau laughed and went to ruffle my hair, unperturbed when I knocked his hand away. "Didn't realise you were still so out of it, sis. She's hopeless sometimes, isn't she?"
Jules nodded sagely. "Completely. And yes, Bella, it is the fourteenth day of February, which we usually recognise as Valentine's Day. I'm guessing you didn't get me anything?"
"No, sorry." I fidgeted uncomfortably, looking down at the box in my hand. The chocolates weren't anything special, just an off-brand selection box from the supermarket, but at least she'd had the thought.
But Jules didn't seem bothered. "What about you, Beau? Nothing to offer to one of your bestest friends ever?" She blinked her eyes at him goofily and he chuckled again.
"I have never bought Valentine's presents for anyone in my life, and I'm not starting now," he informed her sagely, rolling his eyes as he started the engine and turned to drive back towards the road.
"Really?" Jules looked genuinely curious. "What about for E-"
I barely had time to tense up before Beau cut her off in a hard voice. "No. Not even for her."
An awkward silence hung over the cab for a few moments. Guilt and pain warred inside my gut; I didn't want to hear the name, didn't want to think about her because she would inevitably lead me to him and that wasn't a good idea right now. I was almost annoyed at Jules for bringing her up and inadvertently causing the tension. At the same time, it felt wrong to stop Beau from talking about her completely when she was such a big part of his life. And it wasn't really Jules' fault – she wasn't to know, after all.
"Why not?" I asked quietly, breaking the silence.
Both of them turned abruptly to stare at me in shock – which was rather concerning in Beau's case, since he was still driving.
"Um… what?" he spluttered.
"Why don't you buy… her Valentine's presents?" I still couldn't say her name, but I was proud of myself for asking the question.
After a few seconds to collect himself, Beau answered, sounding like he was trying not to make a big deal out of the whole situation but with an unmistakably cautious air. "It, er… It's her birthday, too, so I've always just got her a birthday present instead. She's not really into most of the cliched stuff, anyway. The first year we were together, I got her a teddy bear, mostly as a joke, and she just rolled her eyes at me."
I didn't really know what to say after that, and the silence quickly got awkwardly long, too long to continue the conversation. Yet I couldn't help feeling a sense of accomplishment, and I thought I saw a little hope, tentative as it was, under my brother's surprise.
Jules changed the subject, kindly ignoring the tense atmosphere that had been brewing. "So, how are you both going to repay me for this heinous oversight?"
Beau raised an eyebrow at her. "Why do I feel like you have something in mind already?"
She shrugged. "Oh, nothing big, you'll just owe me a favour. My choice, to collect upon at a time of my choosing." There was a wicked look in her eyes and a mischievous tilt to her smile.
I gulped dramatically. "Any other options? Like, I don't know, treating you to a night out or something?"
"Hmmm…" She tapped her chin, pursing her lips in a show of deep thought. "I guess that could work. What exactly were you thinking?"
I grabbed onto a convenient hanging thread. "I've been telling Jeremy I'll go to a movie with him for ages, but I don't want it to be just us in case he gets the wrong idea. If you two come along, then it's a group trip and I'll have a few buffers to keep him from trying anything."
Beau snorted. "I wondered why he's been watching you like a puppy for weeks. Sounds like a plan to me, might even be fun. Hey, why don't we ask all the others to go too? The more buffers, the better, right?"
"Absolutely." I turned back to Jules. "Would that be okay? Or will it harsh your street cred to hang out with a bunch of pale-face seniors?"
Jules laughed. "I'm sure I'll be forgiven. If you don't mind having me along, that is."
"It wouldn't be the first time you've crashed one of our hangouts," Beau pointed out, smirking. "Honestly, it might even be more fun with you there."
"Definitely," I agreed eagerly. "Why don't you bring Quil along too, so you have someone else you know there?" I wondered if I should extend the invitation to Embry as well, but decided that wasn't something worth risking today, especially with Beau there.
Jules was grinning. "Oh man, Quil and a bunch of senior girls? He's going to lose it."
I looked at Beau. "What do you think, any good options among our gang for an overconfident sixteen-year-old?"
My brother tipped his head from side to side contemplatively. "Maybe if we steal Erica's glasses. Or if Kay is feeling desperate enough."
His tone was jovial, clearly not meant as an insult, and Jules was right there with him, laughing heartily at the joke and reaching over my head to playfully flick him on the ear. It was a cheerful evening, with a lot more chatter than homework, but it also felt like a pleasant change. I wasn't ready to have Beau join in with all my coveted Jules time, but I couldn't deny it was fun to spend time as a trio.
I drove Jules home by myself after dinner, and when I got back, Charlie was off to bed already.
"Early night again, Dad?" I asked, just a bit proud that I was now tuned in enough to notice something as simple as my father not staying up as late as usual.
"Yeah," he replied, the word almost lost in a wide yawn. "Got a few of the guys out with stomach bugs, so we're all doing long shifts to cover the numbers. Not to mention we still have to field a bunch of calls about that damn bear."
"No luck catching it?"
"None." He sighed. "Barely even getting eyes on it, to be honest. Not by anyone official anyway, it just seems to be hikers and tourists spotting it, which isn't great. Lord knows this town can't afford to lose the little outside trade it gets."
I hummed sympathetically but didn't really know what else to say; thankfully, Charlie was clearly too tired to continue a conversation for too long and wished me goodnight before trudging up the stairs. After debating following him, I went to join Beau in the living room instead. He was watching the back end of some goofball comedy movie, obviously having landed there while channel-surfing, and was chuckling every few moments at the slapstick shenanigans unfolding on the screen.
"You and Jules hanging out again tomorrow?" he asked as I sat down, casual and calm.
"That's the plan."
"Garage?"
I shook my head; I'd had the same conversation with Jules as I'd dropped her off, and decided I didn't need to risk nursing any injuries while trying to navigate an extended social encounter on Friday. "No, we decided on a hike for tomorrow."
Beau raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Wait, are you actually hiking? I thought that was just to explain the…" He gestured vaguely at my head and the implication was clear.
I rolled my eyes but couldn't help shrinking into myself self-consciously. "I mean, it was when I said it, and then it sort of seemed like a good idea, so I got some boots and a map and we've been exploring most Sundays for the last few weeks."
"Exploring where?" He looked suspicious now.
"Just… around," I hedged, knowing I'd already shot myself in the foot.
"Bella…" Beau gave me a reproachful look.
"Fine, fine," I sighed. "I had this mad idea that I wanted to find the meadow, and Jules is helping me look."
"The meadow? Oh, you mean the sunny spot you went to -" He saw me tense and stopped short. "Sorry. Wait, are you telling me you and Jules have been wandering around the woods willy-nilly just hoping you'll stumble upon it?"
"We're not just wandering around," I argued, irritated on Jules' behalf as well as my own. "We have a very well thought out plan, and a map and compass and all the right gear. And we never stay out after dark."
"Well, that's something, I guess," he muttered, turning back to the movie; from the slight creasing of his forehead, I didn't think he was really paying attention to it anymore and a minute later, the credits started rolling anyway.
"You okay?" I asked softly, a little afraid of the answer, but really not wanting to let that horrid distance open back up again. "I promise we're being careful."
Beau looked almost startled by the question. "Oh, no, that's not what I was thinking about. Just… it wasn't what I expected you'd be doing, that's all. I trust you, Bell."
My shoulders slumped in relief; I hadn't fully noticed myself tensing up. "That's good to hear. I was sort of worried you wouldn't after…"
He waved a hand to cut me off. "Nah, we're good. Once I had time to think about it, I started to understand a bit better why you did it. It was still stupid, mind you." He gave me a reproachful look, but it melted away quickly. "But you'd have to do a lot worse to get me to really stop trusting you. I can't afford to lose my partner in crime."
I rolled my eyes at his mischievous grin and punched him lightly on the arm as I got up. "And on that note, I'm going up to bed. You staying up?"
"Probably better if I don't. I wasn't really doing anything productive, anyway. Dare I say sleep well?"
I blinked, a little surprised by the comment; after all, my nightmares were a topic of silent understanding in our house – emphasis on the silent, as in we all knew I had them and we absolutely did not talk about it. This was the only direct reference either of the boys had ever made to my trouble sleeping, and I wasn't sure how to handle it.
Beau looked ready to backtrack, something like panic suddenly in his eyes, so I quickly jumped in with what I wanted to be a reassuring quip but which came out sounding more than a bit hysterical thanks to my own suddenly rattled state. "I always try to."
He smiled cautiously. "There's been a few quiet nights recently."
I nodded. "There have. So, here's hoping, I guess."
Beau crossed his fingers ostentatiously, and I flashed him a ghost of a smile before quickly retreating, unable to handle the tension and not wanting to compromise our recent discussion of trust by lying to him; I could never be sure exactly what it was that made the difference between quiet nights and the dreaded screaming terror.
A thought occurred to me as I went, something that might make my own state worse but would probably make him feel more secure in my newly recovered sanity. I turned back just as I reached the stairs, debating for half a second before I called out to my brother, just barely visible from my angle on the living room. "Hey Beau?"
"Mmm?" He was already at his bedroom door, raising an eyebrow curiously at me.
"Say… say happy birthday from me. You know, if you… see her or…" The words got stuck in my throat, but he knew what I was getting at and grinned widely.
"I will. Night, Bell."
"Goodnight," I squeaked out, rushing the rest of the way upstairs.
The next day at school, we set about putting together the movie trip. Not wanting a repeat of my cluelessness last time, I'd done my research and found an action movie called Crosshairs that all the write-ups assured me would be completely devoid of any romantic elements, just straight death and explosions from beginning to end. Beau hadn't cared much about what we watched and agreed easily when I suggested it. We split up the cafeteria gang between us based on who we would see first throughout the day, and it felt almost like concocting our own secret spy mission, analysing targets and devising suitable interception locations.
I pulled Jeremy, much to my annoyance, since we were in the first hour together, and decided it was best to get it over with by asking him before the class started.
"Hey, Jeremy, are you free Friday?"
His eyes lit up almost immediately, and a sharp sense of guilt hit me, knowing I was getting his hopes up. "Sure, yeah, I've got nothing planned. You finally want to catch that movie?"
"Yeah." I had already thought about how to approach this so he would be very clear on the dynamic I was looking for, but after my fumbled opening, I knew it would be even more important to make sure he understood. "I told Beau about it and he thought it was a great idea to get a group-" Emphasis on that word, just in case. "-together to go out. It's been ages since we all hung out together, hasn't it?"
Jeremy deflated slightly, but still seemed agreeable. "Yeah, it has. What movie did you have in mind?"
"We thought Crosshairs sounded pretty good, based on the reviews."
"Yeah, I've heard good things about that one, too." He perked up slightly as an idea seemed to occur to him. "So you're inviting Angela and Ben, right? And Katie and Austin?"
Was he hoping that the more couples came, the more it would seem like a group date? I hadn't been aware the latter two were seeing each other, but the way he put their names together made it obvious.
"Of course, and McKayla, Erica, Tyler and Conner," I rattled off quickly to keep him from getting the wrong idea. "Maybe Logan, if he's not busy." I was struck suddenly by how few girls were in our group – probably a side effect of them being mostly Beau's childhood friends. Quil was going to have slim pickings if he was really on the prowl for an older woman.
"Sounds good," Jeremy sighed, defeated at last.
"We have a few friends from La Push coming too," I went on. "We'll probably need a few cars to get everybody there."
Jeremy looked wary. "Is that the same friends you're always studying with?"
"The very ones," I said, smiling widely. "Jules and Quil. It feels kind of like tutoring rather than studying, though, since they're only sophomores."
"Huh," he said, smiling slightly again. So much for making him understand.
The bad news just kept piling on. Austin and Katie were celebrating some minor anniversary – three weeks, Beau said – so they couldn't make it, and Logan and McKayla both claimed to already have plans as soon as my name got mentioned. Logan had apparently already talked to Conner and Tyler before I saw them in Government, and they were busy too. Erica agreed when Beau talked to her, despite apparent attempts to interfere from McKayla, but caught us just before the end of the day to say her parents wouldn't let her go. Angela and Ben were in, but that was almost worse, because they would inevitably bring a couple-y vibe to the whole proceeding. Even Quil had to pass; Jules called just after we got home to tell us he'd been fighting at school and got himself suspended and grounded, so only she would be joining us after all.
Whether because the numbers were down or because we could now almost split neatly into three boy-girl pairs without effort, Jeremy was in a good mood about the whole thing on Friday, talking about nothing else for most of lunch.
"Why don't we try Tomorrow and Forever instead of that action movie?" he suggested between bites of his sandwich. "I saw some reviews of it that were a lot better than Crosshairs."
I blanched mentally at the idea of sitting through the new smash romantic comedy. "No, I've been looking forward to some action. Blood and guts and bullets – I can't wait."
To his credit, Jeremy tried to hide the look on his face that showed me as clear as words that he thought I was crazy.
Beau, ever my protector, chuckled and reached over to feel my forehead. "You sure you're feeling okay, sis? Not your normal vibe at all, is it?"
I stuck my tongue out at him and batted his hand away. "Shut up, dork, you don't know everything about me. Besides, do you really want to sit through a gushy romance tonight?"
He made a dramatically disgusted face, playing along exactly as I had known he would. "No, thank you. Crosshairs will do nicely."
Jeremy gave him a look. "Everything okay with you and Edythe?"
I should have expected it once the talk of romance started, but the name still caught me off guard. I was glad I was already sitting down because the sudden rip of pain up the centre of my chest would have knocked me to the ground if I had been standing. As it was, my breath caught, and I slumped back in my seat, wrestling with the instinct to start hyperventilating. I just about held myself back from closing my eyes, biting my lip to stifle any pained noises that tried to escape, and glanced around to see if my reaction had been noticed. Everyone seemed suitably distracted, but I couldn't be sure.
Beau stiffened slightly, but kept his voice calm as he answered Jeremy. "Yeah, we're fine. Just been a while since she's been able to visit, work has been keeping her busy recently. We might catch up over Spring Break. You got any plans?"
Jeremy did indeed have plans over the break, and he launched into describing them in excruciating detail. Thus distracted, he didn't notice when Beau took my hand under the table and squeezed tightly, or the way my arm was wrapped around my stomach protectively as I struggled to hold myself together. I excused myself to go to the bathroom as soon as I was sure no one would follow me and missed the first five minutes of class after lunch as I waited in the truck for the episode to pass. I really had to get this under control; today had only made it more obvious that I couldn't avoid mentions of their family forever. Yet more proof that his promise had always been stupid and impossible to keep.
My mood was still dour when I got back in our car after school. Beau looked concerned but only raised one eyebrow in question; somehow he knew trying to talk about it would only make it worse. I shrugged and tipped my head back and forth a few times.
"I'll live," I murmured, hoping I sounded confident enough to reassure him.
I brightened up immensely when we got home and I saw a very familiar car already parked in front of the house, Jules leaning against the hood and grinning widely at us as we got out of the truck.
I matched her smile, almost running over. "Oh my god, you finally finished it!"
"Sure did. I've had more time to work on it since I didn't have your little commission project to distract me anymore," she joked, pulling me into a hug. "Although I did only finish it last night. Made it here in one piece, though."
"A successful first outing," Beau agreed cheerfully as he joined us, holding his hand up for a high five that Jules happily gave him, shifting me so I was held against her side.
"Thanks. At the risk of pushing it too far, could I drive tonight? I want to see how much I can really open her up on the highway."
"Fine by me," my brother said with a shrug. "Any objections, Bell?"
"Nope." I shook my head, then sighed as something occurred to me.
"What?" Jules asked, frowning.
"Nothing, just…" I sighed again. "This is officially the second car you've rebuilt from almost nothing. Four if you count the bikes. I've got no hope of catching up now, so you're definitely older."
She smirked victoriously. "Well, duh. I could have told you that months ago."
Jeremy's car appeared around the corner then, pulling up across the street rather than battling for a spot on the increasingly crowded curb.
"Is this the guy that keeps trying to put the moves on you?" Jules whispered in my ear conspiratorially while my brother waved to Jeremy in greeting. "He still not realised he's barking up the wrong tree?"
"Unfortunately," I grumbled. "He's annoyingly persistent."
She made a sympathetic noise and let go of me as Jeremy joined us.
"Hey guys," he said, eyeing Jules in a way I wasn't sure I liked. It was almost derogatory, like he was seeing her as a child. When I looked at her, trying to see her from an objective view, I realised she actually did look a lot older than sixteen; even in the last month, her face had matured, and her height rivalled both of the boys.
"Hey, Jer!" I tried to keep the mood light, not liking the tension I could feel building. "Do you remember Jules?"
"Don't think so. Have we met?" Jeremy held out a hand solicitously.
Jules took it and shook, her face unexpectedly cool. "Can't remember, sorry. Jules Black, old family friend." I thought I saw Jeremy's fingers flex slightly when she let go.
Meanwhile, Beau was frowning down at his phone. "Bad news, guys. Ang and Ben aren't coming."
"What happened?" I asked, more upset by this than I expected. Just Jules and my brother would not be the most effective buffers against any advances Jeremy might try to make.
"Angela's got that stomach flu that's been going around, and Ben doesn't want to come without her."
"Dang," Jeremy said, not looking nearly as disappointed. "I knew it was getting bad again when Austin and Conner didn't come in today, but Angela seemed fine earlier. Do we want to reschedule?" He eyed Jules again, like she was some sort of unwelcome intruder.
She ignored him, looking at me. "I'm still game if you are. I don't have anything else to do tonight, and Mom's at a council meeting."
I nodded and raised an eyebrow at my brother. "You in, Beau?"
"Sure," he agreed easily. "We can always do a group thing another day." He turned to Jeremy. "Up to you, man, you coming with us?"
"Alright," Jeremy agreed a bit too quickly, taking a few steps back towards his car. "Shall we go?"
"Actually, Jules was going to drive," I cut in, gesturing to the Rabbit. "She just finished building her car. Did it all from scratch, by herself." I was showing off just a bit on my friend's behalf, wanting Jeremy to recognise her talent so he'd stop acting like she was an annoying little sibling trying to tag along with the big kids.
He looked disgruntled for a moment, but gave in. "If you think we'll all fit."
There was no issue with that; Jules called shotgun for me and forced the boys to go in the back, but we both cranked our seats forward so they had more room. Jules chattered away as usual as she drove, directing most of the conversation to me and occasionally Beau behind her, ignoring Jeremy in a way that could be reasonably passed off as accidental but which felt very intentional, if the mischievous twinkle I kept catching in her eye was any indication. Jeremy sat back and sulked for a while, replying curtly to the few questions and comments Beau directed his way, until we were about halfway to Port Angeles and he apparently decided to try a new tack. He shifted forward in his seat so he was leaning against the back of mine, putting his chin on the cushion just above my shoulder so his face was inches from mine. I couldn't help the way I stiffened at his closeness and twisted so I was nearer to the window, facing into the car and putting some distance between us.
"Mind turning on some music?" he asked grumpily, cutting Jules off in the middle of a sentence. "Or is the stereo still a work in progress?"
"No, it works," Jules replied, impressively unaffected by his petulance. "But Bella doesn't like music."
I'd known she knew this, of course, but we'd never actually talked about it, so it was still a little surprising to hear her say it so casually. Beau looked a bit startled, too.
Jeremy was just annoyed. "Really, Bella?"
"Yeah, sorry," I mumbled, embarrassed to be called out, but mostly marvelling at how much Jules seemed to pay attention to without me realising.
"I've never heard of anyone that didn't like music," Jeremy ranted, refusing to let go of the point.
"Well, I don't," I said, shrugging. "It's annoying and distracting."
Beau chose that moment to make himself heard again. "Just drop it, dude, you can survive without a backing track for one drive. Did you catch the Mariners' game the other night?"
Jeremy was finally suitably distracted by that, although he didn't seem happy about it, sitting back in his seat with a huff.
We got to the theatre with no further drama, and Jules handed me ten dollars before we went inside.
I frowned, trying to push the money back to her. "What are you doing? Don't you need that?"
She shook her head, smiling conspiratorially. "I'm too young for this one. You need to buy my ticket and sneak me in."
I couldn't help giggling. "I guess they're not going to accept our arguments about relative age, huh? Am I going to get shouted at by Bonnie if she finds out?"
"Nah, she knows what we're planning to see. Guess she trusts you and Beau not to destroy my innocence too thoroughly."
"What innocence?" Beau commented cheekily, coming up behind us and putting her in a loose headlock. "Weren't you the one who introduced me to horror movies, what, five years ago?"
Jules and I both laughed, and Jeremy, who had been trailing behind, hurried to catch us up. I was getting more than a little annoyed by his presence and rather wished he'd decided to go home after all. The three of us were quite happy together, and he was a decidedly unwelcome intrusion, especially because he was still in a bad mood.
Tickets acquired and all of us successfully admitted to the theatre (Jules was so tall the usher didn't even question whether she was over eighteen) I found myself sandwiched in between Jules and Jeremy, who had all but forced his way into the row ahead of my brother. Based on the look on Beau's face, neither of us was happy about the arrangement, but my brother valiantly kept his friend distracted through the previews, so I was free to chat to Jules in relative privacy.
The movie was exactly what all the spoilers I'd hunted down had promised. Before the opening credits had properly finished, an enormous explosion took out four people, and another guy got his head chopped off by a stray length of razor wire. A couple sat just in front of us were cuddled close together, the girl's face buried in her date's chest and his arm comfortingly around her, though I could see him wincing too. Jeremy was stiff next to me, his focus seemingly somewhere on the ceiling rather than the screen, and I saw my brother cover his eyes once or twice.
I settled back in my seat, my eyes unfocusing so I couldn't really see what was going on. After all, this was just a way to pass a few hours and get Jeremy off my back, so I wasn't really invested in what was going on. That is, until Jules started snickering under her breath.
"What is it?" I whispered, leaning over slightly towards her.
She put her head right next to mine, her answer coming in a disbelieving hiss. "Come on, they can't be serious with this! I swear that blood splatter went what, twenty feet? It's so obviously fake, it almost hurts to watch." She smothered another laugh as another random background character got a flagpole through the chest and ended up pinned to a solid concrete wall.
From there, the movie became more entertaining, if only because I was enjoying laughing at the ridiculousness with Jules. I didn't even have to worry about the gore unsettling my stomach, since none of it looked genuine enough to bother me. Not to mention it was always the smell that really threw me off with blood, and that wasn't an issue here.
Jeremy had his hand resting on the armrest between us, palm upturned in an unnatural, spread-eagled sort of pose that wasn't hard to interpret. But I wasn't going to take his hand, no matter how much he offered it. I kept my body tilted towards Jules, hoping he would get the message, or else that his hand would cramp up. About halfway through the film, he finally gave up, pulling his arm back. I only had a moment to feel triumphant before he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, putting his head in his hands and groaning pitifully.
Beau leaned forward too, a worried frown on his face. "You okay, man?" he asked softly.
Another groan, one loud enough that the people in front of us turned round to glare at him.
"No," he panted. "I feel sick."
There was indeed the telltale glisten of sweat across his forehead, just visible in the light from the screen. The next second, he was up and bolting for the door, stumbling over the feet of people he had to pass to get out of our row.
I moved to follow him, but Beau waved me off. "Stay here, I'll go. You wouldn't be able to go into the men's room, anyway."
I sat back in my seat but couldn't help the worried frown that creased my brow. A few moments later, Jules leaned into my ear again.
"Come on, let's just go. This is truly terrible, I'm not sure I can stand another hour."
"Alright," I agreed, feeling guilty for dragging her along.
"What made you pick that trash, anyway?" she asked once we were out in the hallway, finally able to speak at a normal volume again.
I shrugged. "It looked good from the poster. Sorry."
She waved off my worries, stretching her arms above her head. "No problem. At least it was fun to make fun of."
There was no sign of either of the boys, but I could hear the distant sound of retching when I put my ear against the men's bathroom door.
Jules tittered, coming off a little nasty as she said, "What a marshmallow. Imagine not being able to handle that overblown mess. He's definitely not your kind of guy, Bella. You need someone with a stronger stomach."
"I'll keep that in mind," I mused, sitting down on a bench to the side. "Sounds like he'll be in there for a while, though."
There was no one else around; the theatre was only big enough to support a handful of screens, and all of them were mid-movie, so the place looked completely deserted, silent apart from the echoes from behind the doors and the distant pop of the popcorn machine at the concessions stand.
Jules sat down next to me, looking thoughtful. "Hey, Bella, can I ask you something?"
"Sure, what's up?"
"Well, we've been joking about Mr Marshmallow," she began, a slight smirk flashing across her face, then quickly fading again. "And I know you're not interested in him. But… is there anybody else?"
I gave her a disbelieving look, trying to ignore the way my stomach started rolling at the question. "Really? You want to talk about boys?"
"Boys, girls…" She shrugged. "I don't know. You seem to me like you'd be open to anything."
I had to blink a few times to let that sink in. Sure, I prided myself on being pretty open and understanding, and I'd certainly never had any objection to homosexuality in other people I had met, even the Logans of the world who made their repressed angst into everybody else's problem because they couldn't deal with it themselves. But me? I'd never thought about it, but it didn't seem likely. After all, the only person I had ever found myself attracted to was male. That had to mean something, didn't it?
Rather than address Jules' comment directly – or look too closely at the metaphorical hornets' nest that I risked kicking by thinking about it too hard – I shamelessly deflected. "Why are you asking?"
She was quiet for a few seconds and I wondered if she was going to ignore me in an attempt to shut down the conversation, embarrassed to have started it. When she spoke, she avoided my gaze, staring fixedly at the poster on the wall opposite us. "I guess… there's someone I like, and I'm wondering how to approach them. And you're one of the only people I know with any experience in that area, so…" She shrugged heavily, kicking the carpet with her toe. "I wondered if you had any advice."
My shoulders were stiff, and I gripped the edge of the bench tightly. Talk of my romantic experience was taking my mind to places I didn't want it to go to, not now, not when I was still weakened from Jeremy's stupid comment at school, not when I was with Jules and somewhere close to happy. I didn't want this to ruin it.
"I… I don't think my experience would be much use to you," I hedged, hoping she would take the hint and drop it. It was my turn to fix my eyes ahead, counting the leaves in a nearby potted plant as I felt her stare burning into the side of my face.
"You still can't talk about it?" she asked softly. "After all these months?"
I shook my head slowly, squeezing my eyes shut as the wounds in my chest began to pulse and throb. "I don't think I ever will. To be honest, I think I'm… I'm broken beyond repair when it comes to… all that. There isn't anyone… not now, maybe not ever."
The words hung in the air between us for a moment as I tried desperately to get a hold of myself. I couldn't fall apart, not here. I couldn't subject Jules or my brother to the true depths of my brokenness.
"What if…" Jules said, slow and tentative, and I waited with bated breath to find out where exactly she was going with this, feeling a strange relief when she finally continued. "What if I just tell you about my thing? And then you could tell me what you think I should do. No old experience necessary. No need to bring up any memories of that one."
Once again, I marvelled at how much she seemed to understand, how attuned she was to the things that would set me off, and how to avoid them. Perhaps she was talking to Beau behind my back; there wasn't anyone else besides my brother or my father who knew my triggers like that.
"Alright," I allowed, still not sure this was going to work, but not wanting to crush her by flat-out refusing. "Go on then."
"Okay." Jules let out a rush of air and then the words came tumbling out, as if she'd waited a long time to say them. "There's a person I like. Really like, maybe more than like. We've sort of known each other for ages, sort of not very long at the same time… but recently we've gotten really close, and we're having such a good time. We're together all the time, and every time we hang out, it's just… it's effortless, you know? Like we don't have to try. It doesn't even matter what we're doing or where we are. We don't have all that much in common, I guess, but it doesn't seem to matter. We just… click. She makes me happy, and I think I do the same for her. I think she's having a hard time being happy right now."
If I hadn't been so preoccupied with the pain in my chest, I was sure I would have seen it coming sooner. As it was, only the choice of pronouns in her last few sentences made everything she said sink in. The ache vanished abruptly, overtaken by a strange nauseous feeling as I realised there was really only one person Jules had been spending enough time with for all of that to make sense. Taking advantage of my frozen state, she wormed one of her hands into mine, unclenching it from the bench and weaving our fingers together in a gesture that was unmistakable now that I was finally paying attention. I was frozen, unable to truly react as an odd blank sort of panic overtook my mind.
"You're so delicate," she murmured softly, almost absentmindedly. "Like a little porcelain doll." The fingers of her other hand traced along the back of my hand, limp in her grasp, then down and around my wrist as she turned our hands over. Her gentle touch found the silver-white crescent of the scar that curved around the side of my hand and down onto the edge of my wrist. "That's a funny scar. Where did it come from?"
"I… don't remember," I breathed, though of course I did. But the memories seemed to be held behind a wall, one made purely from Jules and her light and her warmth; the thought of James and his teeth couldn't get through.
When I looked up at her, there was an intense look in her tawny eyes, a plea for understanding, for acceptance, for… I wasn't sure what, or if I could give her what she wanted.
"Jules…" I started to say, not knowing where I was going at all, and so almost grateful when the bathroom door banged open and the boys emerged. Jeremy looked like death warmed over, his face grey, miserable, and sweat-soaked. Beau was practically holding him up, a precarious position for both of them to be in.
I stood quickly, extracting my hand from Jules' grip, and hurried forward. "Oh no, Jeremy!"
"Can we go?" he asked in a tiny, croaking voice. "I know we'll miss the rest of the movie."
"Of course we're leaving," I assured him. "None of us were really watching it, anyway."
"Clearly it was too intense for some people," Jules commented, and I frowned at the nasty tone in her voice.
Beau didn't like it either. "Hey, Jules, leave it, would you?"
Jeremy gave her a dark look. "If you must know, I was feeling like crap before it started."
"You should have said," I scolded him lightly. I contemplated helping my brother with supporting him but decided against it; I was a little afraid of getting vomited on.
Jules was leading the way to the door, making a quick detour to the concessions stand.
"Can I get an empty popcorn bucket?" she asked, jerking her head back towards Jeremy at the girl behind the counter's confused look. "Biggest one you've got, if you don't mind."
The girl handed over the giant bucket without argument. "Get him out of here, please." From the mildly panicked look on her face, I guessed she was probably responsible for cleaning the floor.
Jeremy seemed to appreciate getting into the fresh air, but it didn't improve his colour at all. Between the three of us, we manoeuvred him into the back seat of the Rabbit – my offer to let him have the front soundly rejected by Jules – and he hunched over the popcorn bucket as soon as it was handed to him. We cranked down all the windows as far as they would go, hoping the cool air would help him, which left the rest of us coping with the cold as we drove back towards Forks. I saw Beau huddle into his jacket, and I brought my feet up onto my seat, curling into a ball to preserve what warmth I had.
Jules, on the other hand, didn't seem bothered by the cold in the slightest. She smirked at me playfully, her tone all teasing. "That's the trouble with you folks that grow up in warm climates – no stamina whatsoever."
"You're not cold?" I grumbled back at her, barely keeping my teeth from chattering. "It's freezing!"
"Feels fine to me," she said with a shrug, and she didn't seem to be bluffing.
"You're crazy, Jules," Beau piped up from the backseat. "Bell, see if she's got a fever or something."
I reached over and touched her forehead and almost snatched my hand back from the sudden heat. "Ouch! You're right, Beau, she's burning up!"
"I'm fine," Jules insisted. "You two are just a pair of worry warts."
I put my hand back on her head, going slowly to adjust to the temperature, a frown slowly creasing my forehead. She definitely felt hot, but not exactly feverish; there wasn't the clammy undertone that came with being ill, and her eyes were alert as she watched the road, showing no sign of fatigue.
"Would you stop?" she complained, leaning away from me. "Your hands are like icicles."
"Maybe I'm just cold," I allowed, but I wasn't convinced.
Jeremy threw up loudly behind me, and everyone's noses wrinkled. Beau practically stuck his head out of the window to escape the smell, and I carefully breathed through my mouth, hoping my stomach would hold until we could get Jeremy safely into his house. Suddenly, the cold seemed a more than fair price to pay for the fresh air that came with it. Jules glanced back, obviously worried about a potential mess on her backseat.
The drive back to Forks felt a lot longer than the drive over, probably because it was so quiet; Jules didn't start up her usual stream of chatter, and no one else seemed inclined to break the silence, save for the occasional groan or retch from Jeremy.
I barely paid attention to the passing scenery, my mind a whirlwind of confused thoughts and emotions, being pulled in so many different directions that it was hard to follow any one thread to its conclusion.
One part of my brain was running back over the last few months, reliving and re-evaluating every interaction I had had with Jules, looking for the signs I'd obviously missed.
Another was looking ahead, puzzling through what this might mean for the future, laying out choices and options and trying to guess where each would take me.
And yet a third part was loudly and uncontrollably freaking out.
I wasn't completely clear where the panic was coming from. It wasn't as if the idea of Jules liking girls was a problem. She certainly wouldn't be the first person who I'd met with that particular leaning, and it hardly made a difference to how I felt about her as a friend.
Which was really the crux of the mental chaos – because Jules didn't want to be just friends anymore. She wanted to be something else, and while I could cope with her being attracted to women just fine, it was an entirely different thing to reckon with her being attracted to me.
For one thing, it was an entirely hopeless prospect. Even if I was also that way inclined – and it was a very big if, given my romantic history, limited as it was – I hadn't been kidding when I told her I was broken. Not just broken but shattered, like a China vase knocked from a tall shelf onto a hardwood floor, all my pieces scattered beyond hope of repair. Putting me back together was an impossible undertaking; there were too many tiny shards that had chipped off and disappeared into the corners never to be seen again, so that even if someone could figure out the jigsaw puzzle of the bigger fragments, there would always be something missing, keeping me from being fully whole.
How could I explain to Jules that her affection was misplaced? That I'd never be able to return her feelings, even if I wanted to, because I simply didn't have the capacity for it anymore? The best I could ever manage would be little more than a performance, a pale imitation of actions and expressions I could only remember in the vaguest terms for the sake of my own sanity. She deserved better than that, better than me. She might be too young to realise it on her own, so I would have to find a way to convince her.
Yet I balked at the very idea of rejecting her flat out. What if she wanted nothing to do with me at all? I couldn't stand to lose her friendship; it was the one thing truly keeping me in the land of the living. Hadn't I been thinking, not even an hour ago, about her warmth and how it chased away all the terrible memories? How she kept the pain and the darkness at bay, just by being herself? Would it be so terrible, I wondered, to have that protection around more permanently? More… intimately? I had never known myself to want a relationship like that with a girl, but did that mean I didn't want it? Surely it couldn't hurt to try.
Or would it be yet another performance, an experiment with no hope of success, whose failure would cause both of us even more damage?
By the time we were passing into the Forks city limits, I still had no concrete answers. All I knew was that I could not stand to have Jules out of my life.
When we got back to our house, it was clear that Jeremy was in no state to drive himself home. I suggested he leave his car and pick it up tomorrow, but Beau rightly pointed out that our neighbour across the street would complain if she couldn't get out of her driveway in the morning.
"I'll drive him back in his car," Beau said, in the tone of absolute certainty he got when he was in take-charge 'big brother' mode. "You follow me in the truck and bring me home after."
I nodded, turning to Jules. "Want to wait inside until we get back? It's still early, we could hang out for a while longer."
To my surprise, Jules pursed her lips, looking uncertain. "Actually, I think I'd better get home. I don't know if you're right about that fever, but I'm feeling a bit… off."
"Oh, Jules, not you too! Are you alright to drive? I can take you home…" I tried to work out the logistics of that plan, who should be dropped off first, who might end up waiting around and where.
Jules interrupted my planning by shaking her head. "No, I don't feel sick, just… strange. Unsettled, maybe… I don't know. I can get myself home, though. I'll stop whenever I need to if I think I'm getting worse."
"If you're sure…" I frowned. "Call me if you need picking up, okay? And when you get home, I want to know that you're safe."
"Sure thing," she replied distractedly, looking over my head towards where Beau was helping Jeremy into his car. "Hey, before you go, there's one more thing I want to say, okay? No expectations, I've just got to get it out before I lose my nerve again."
I would be lying if I said her words didn't make me nervous about what might come next, but I nodded. "Go for it."
"Okay." She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and took my hand again, the heat enveloping my fingers and chasing away the lingering chill of the car ride. "I know we don't really talk about it, but I want you to know that I see how… how sad you are a lot of the time. I know I probably don't even see half of it, and… I don't know, but I feel like maybe it's better when you're with me. So I just wanted to make sure you knew that whenever you need me, I'll be there. Phone calls out of nowhere, dropping by unannounced, last-minute invites — it doesn't matter. Whatever, wherever, you can count on me." She chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment. "Damn, that sounds cheesy. But I mean it, Bella. I won't let you down, and I won't hurt you. Not ever."
"I know," I murmured. "And believe me, Jules, I rely on you so much. You're my best friend in the world."
The smile she gave me was radiant, practically splitting her face in two. Even if the light in her eyes dimmed slightly when I called her my friend, I knew I had still said too much. I had given her hope, when really there was no question about her being enough – it was me that was the problem. She could never completely rely on me.
Beau called my name then, and I pulled my hand free from Jules' to turn and face him. She didn't look exactly upset, but there was a strange look on her face.
"We going or what?" my brother asked, looking rather anxious. "I think Jer emptied himself out pretty well already, but I don't want to risk it."
"Let's go," I agreed. "Keys?" Once he'd fished them out of his pocket and handed them over, I gave Jules a stern look. "Call me, okay?"
She didn't answer, just nodding and waving distractedly as she got back into her car. I watched her leave even as I was hurrying to get the truck going so Beau wouldn't leave me behind; the Rabbit seemed under control, and by the time I pulled off the curb she had already disappeared into the darkness.
As I followed the boys to Jeremy's house, and as I drove Beau and I back to our house, I was beginning to feel somewhat ill myself; not feverish or nauseous necessarily, just… out of sorts. Odd, like Jules had claimed to feel.
How many times had I watched Beau and Jules interacting and thought how much they seemed like siblings? My brother had even called her his little sister, an endearment usually only reserved for me, erroneous as it was. If only she really was our sister, my sister, and then perhaps this all wouldn't be so confusing. That kind of love for her I could understand; it wouldn't be tying me up in knots like these feelings did. A sibling could be leaned on, relied on, the way I did with her, and it wasn't manipulation or taking advantage. That was what brothers and sisters were supposed to do for each other. I was allowed to need Beau for support; I had a right to expect him to keep secrets for me or be my buffer against uncomfortable situations – I had no such claim on Jules.
And if I loved her, any kind of love, be it the sisterly bond I wished for or the vague undefinable more that she seemed to be after, did that make it any better? Loving someone gave them power over you, the power to break you, to leave you nothing but an unrecognisable shadow of your former self. I knew that better than anyone, knew it as surely as I knew my own name.
There was no fixing me, and I couldn't allow Jules to be shattered the same way I had been.
The way I loved her wasn't ever going to be enough. She might believe that if she were patient, then something would change, but I knew she was wrong. That amount of time didn't exist – it was beyond lifetimes, beyond eons, beyond eternity itself. But I would let her wait me out. I would let her keep trying to put me back together, piece by piece, shard by shard, because I needed her. She had become an addiction, as acute as my need for the voices, a drug that kept me going for long enough to get to the next day, the next fix, the next short step closer to the end of my life and the end of the torture. I was stuck in an endless catch twenty-two, not wanting to hurt her but unable to keep from doing it anyway.
I checked the battery on my cell phone as we got out of the car and panicked when I saw how low it was. Hurrying inside, I ignored Charlie's yell of greeting from the living room, leaving Beau to field the explanations with only a modicum of guilt. Upstairs, I retrieved my charger from its home in one of my desk drawers, fumbling as desperation made me rush and taking three tries to get the plug into the outlet. Getting the other end of the cable into the tiny charging port was even more difficult, especially as my hands had started shaking by now, but I finally got it, and the phone thankfully hadn't died in the meantime. I sat back in my desk chair, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself down. Another thought occurred to me once my brain was working properly again, and I jumped up to open my bedroom door, just in case she called the house phone; I knew I would struggle to get to it before one of the boys, but at least I would hear it.
And so the waiting game began. I sat watching my phone, my knees pulled up again, although I was now much warmer than in the car. I contemplated getting out my journal to pass the time, but I knew I wouldn't be able to write anything coherent, not while my head was still spinning from Jules' declarations or while I was so distracted by waiting for her to call. Instead, I just watched the minutes ticking away on my bedroom clock. It had taken us a good ten minutes to get to the Stanleys' house and back, mostly because Jeremy's mother had insisted Beau tell her every detail of his symptoms before she would let us leave. It only took me fifteen minutes to drive to the Blacks' house, and Jules typically drove faster than I did even in the truck; she should be almost home by now, unless she had needed to stop. But another ten minutes of waiting passed, then fifteen. When it had been nearly twenty minutes and still my phone hadn't lit up, I grabbed it, roughly yanking out the cord and dialling their home number.
The ringing went on and on, and no one picked up. Naturally, this did nothing to make me feel better.
Bonnie's probably asleep, I reassured myself. She'll wake up when she hears the phone.
But the call rang through without an answering machine to pick it up, and there was nothing. I worried that I'd dialled wrong and all but ran downstairs to check the number in the little contact book Charlie kept by the phone.
Beau was in the kitchen, fixing a late dinner by the looks of things, and gave me a funny look as I barrelled in with clear and singular purpose. "You okay there?"
"Jules was supposed to call me when she got home," I snapped at him, my worry making me more waspish than I intended to be. "But I haven't heard from her and no one picked up just now."
My brother had the decency to look as concerned as I felt. "Try it on the landline. Number's in the book."
"I know," I grumbled, but did as he suggested, taking my time to make sure I put the number in right.
At first it was the same endless ringing, and I worried I would get ignored again, but after the eighth ring, the line finally engaged and Bonnie's gravelly voice came through the phone, a strange edge to it, like she was expecting a call with bad news. "Hello?"
"Hi, Bonnie, it's Bella. Did Jules get home yet? I asked her to call me and she left here nearly half an hour ago."
"She made it back," Bonnie said, but the sound of her voice was odd; it was blank, almost emotionless – or perhaps guarded was a better word.
I felt my frown deepen, and my anxious irritation made me sharp with her like I had been with Beau. "Well, is she alright? Our friend got sick while we were out and she said she wasn't feeling right-"
"Yes, she's sick," Bonnie cut me off, almost rude in her abruptness. "Too sick to call. She's gone straight to bed. I didn't know you were waiting or I would have let you know."
Maybe she was being snippy because she was worried, just like me. I tried to soften my tone when I spoke again. "Do you need any help to take care of her? I don't mind driving down and giving you a hand." I wondered how mobile she was in her chair, if Jules' room was accessible for her, or if my friend would be left looking after herself.
"No, we're fine, thanks." Not so sharp, but not exactly polite either. "You stay put, we'll manage."
"Alright," I agreed reluctantly. "But-"
"Goodnight, Bella."
There was the distinctive click of the phone being hung up, then the dial tone.
I lowered the receiver from my ear and stared at it in disbelief. Bonnie was a lot of things, but I'd never taken her for the sort of person who cut off a conversation quite so unceremoniously.
"Jules got the flu too?" Beau asked, stirring the pot that was now softly bubbling on the stove.
"Sounds like it," I murmured. The call, while on the surface offering answers, had done nothing to calm my anxiety.
"She got home, though. That's something."
"Mmm."
Now it was my brother's turn to look worried, but very much at me. "You feeling alright?"
"Yeah." I nodded slowly, finally hanging up the phone and moving towards the doorway. "I'm not really hungry, though. I think I'm going to head to bed."
"You don't want to try even a little bit?" he coaxed. "Or I can make you a sandwich."
"No, I'm tired. I promise I'll come down and fix something for myself if I change my mind."
I retreated to my room before he could argue further, so distracted that I forgot to say a proper goodnight to Charlie. By the time I realised, I didn't want the bother of going back down, so I resigned myself to being a bad daughter for one more night. I eyed my journal again, but decided against it; my mind still wasn't in the right place for writing. Maybe tomorrow, after I'd found some time to go down to La Push and check on Jules. I'd try to ferret a spare can of soup out of the recesses of the cupboards, or else pop into the Thriftway after work – although I wasn't sure I could wait that long.
The plans were enough to get me settled and sleeping, but they didn't last. I woke up again around four thirty, according to the brief glance I got at my clock as I bolted from my bed into the bathroom. I hadn't had a dream, but that was a slight comfort when I was emptying my guts into the toilet.
That was how Charlie found me about half an hour later when he got up to go to work. He took one look at me, sprawled across the floor with my face pressed against the bathtub for some relief from the sweat clinging to my skin, and nodded sagely, like he'd been expecting this.
"Stomach flu," he said matter-of-factly.
"Yep," I replied weakly, even though I knew it wasn't a question.
"Think you can stand getting back into bed?"
It was a testament to how terrible I felt that I actually glared at my father, something I rarely had cause for and wouldn't have dreamed of doing in other circumstances. "I'd only be back in five minutes. Unless you want me to make a mess of my bedroom."
The look I got in return was stern but not unkind, and he was eminently logical in his response. "There's three people in this house, Bella. You can't be taking up the only bathroom all day. Listen, I'm going to call the Newtons and the station, let them know neither of us will be at work today, and then we'll get you set up in your room."
I tried to protest, but it was weak and he'd already disappeared before I got out more than a pitiful whine of, "Dad…"
When he returned, his face was grim. "Looks like your brother's come down with it too, even more reason you can't stay here. Come on, sweetie, up you get."
To his credit, he was very gentle as he half-carried me back to my room. He'd found a large bucket from somewhere and held it poised just in case, but I somehow managed to not throw up on the short trip back to my room, and I had to admit that my bed was a lot more comfortable than the bathroom floor.
Charlie vanished again briefly, returning with a glass of water and the bottle of Pepto Bismol from the bathroom cabinet. "Keep drinking, we don't want you getting dehydrated. And you might not be able to stomach the Pepto, but give it a try if you can."
I made what I hoped he would recognise as grateful noises as he retreated again.
I got the impression that he spent most of the day after that going between me and Beau, keeping us both supplied with water and changing out the bucket so I didn't have to sit with the stink of its contents too much. I felt bad for the amount of effort he was putting in, but was firmly shushed when I tried to apologise.
"Don't forget I got through the newborn stage with both of you," he reminded me as he gently smoothed my hair back from my clammy forehead. "And raised your brother for sixteen years by myself. I've seen worse than this, believe me."
For my part, when I wasn't being sick, I was sleeping, knocked out by sheer exhaustion made all the worse by how often my stomach interrupted my rest. Before I knew it, it had gotten dark outside; Charlie brought me a fresh glass of water and asked if I wanted some toast, but just the mention of food still made my stomach roll. It must have shown on my face because he retracted the offer and quickly retreated.
The phone rang a few minutes later, and a minute or so after that, Charlie was back.
"Mrs Stanley called. Jeremy's doing a lot better, so it looks like one of those funny twenty-four-hour bugs."
"Good to know," I croaked, and although I probably didn't sound it, I was actually being genuine. Squinting at the clock, I saw it was just after 8pm – eight more hours, and I'd hopefully be on the other side of this ordeal.
I wasn't sure exactly when I finally passed out, but at some point, I slept deeply enough to feel somewhat rested when I woke up. The light outside my window was the hazy glow of a cloudy morning; sure enough, the clock confirmed I was past the twenty-four-hour mark. I hadn't been able to drink nearly as much as I should have, and I was feeling it now; my throat felt dry as a bone. Though I meant to cautiously sip from my glass of water, I ended up chugging the whole thing, ignoring the odd taste left over from letting it stand all night. I moved slowly as I got out of bed, wary of another wave of nausea and ready to dive for the clean bucket that had been helpfully left by the bed. But my stomach stayed calm, although my knees shook and I would definitely need to brush my teeth soon. And use mouthwash for good measure.
I hobbled downstairs, clinging to the banister the whole way, and met my brother in a similar state, just emerging from the living room with tired eyes and a face even more pale than usual. At first I worried he was still ill, but when he saw me, his drawn expression transformed into a wide smile, and I knew he was on the road to recovery too.
"Oh good, we're both still alive," he joked, putting his arm around my shoulders. Given that neither of us was especially stable on our feet at the moment, this move made us sway dramatically, and I was a little worried we'd both end up on the floor. But I caught myself on the banister and somehow kept both of us upright.
"Just about," I shot back, unable to stop the smile that pulled at the edges of my mouth. "It felt kind of touch and go a few times."
He grunted in agreement and tugged me into the kitchen, where Charlie was already at the table enjoying his breakfast – about the only thing he could successfully cook for himself. Beau and I split a pack of saltine crackers, both of us being very cautious, but our dad looked pleased and obviously felt confident enough that we'd recovered to leave us unsupervised, because as soon as he was done eating he headed upstairs to put his uniform on and go to work.
I stayed downstairs for a while, watching mind-numbing Sunday morning TV with Beau. Every so often my thoughts strayed to Friday night's revelations, but the anxiety that they triggered felt a bit too much like the stomach bug, so I quickly squashed them and found ways to distract myself, with mixed success. It probably didn't help that I kept my phone on the arm of the sofa, my eyes constantly wandering to it. I was torn between wanting to call and hoping Jules would call me; I didn't want to talk to Bonnie again if she was still in a mood, but I desperately wanted to know if my friend was alright. Yet surely if she'd come down with the same stomach flu, she would be fine by now, since she'd first been sick not long after Jeremy, hours before us. Was she annoyed at me for not responding in the way she'd wanted to her declaration, for calling her my friend when she'd essentially poured her heart out to me? Was that what that last odd look as she left had been about?
Although I thought I was keeping my freak out largely internal, my brother was too in tune with my mood in general to not notice my preoccupation. After half an hour or so, he gave a heavy and deeply put-upon sigh. "Just call her already, would you? The anticipation is painful."
I gave him the best withering look I could muster in that moment, but couldn't hold it for long as I reflexively began gnawing on the inside of my lower lip.
"It's not going to get any better until you call," Beau pointed out, being annoyingly logical, as usual. "Put it on speaker if you're really that anxious about it, I promise I'll keep quiet unless you absolutely need me to back you up."
As annoying as it was, I could see that he had a point. "Fine. But if Bonnie yells at me, I'm blaming you."
"You'd have to do a hell of a lot more than call at a bad time to get Bonnie to yell at you."
I couldn't help thinking that I had definitely already done something worthy of Bonnie's ire, as had he, but didn't think opening that particular can of worms was a good idea. Instead, I just dialled the number and turned on the speakerphone, the dull tones of the ringer seeming almost to echo through the living room; Beau had left the TV on but turned the volume right down to nothing, the figures on the screen moving around with a silence that was almost eery.
To my intense relief, Jules picked up the phone, although the slight lift in my mood vanished almost immediately at the realisation of how strained and broken her voice sounded.
"Hello?" she croaked weakly.
"Oh no, Jules, are you still sick?"
"Yeah. I feel awful."
"This flu thing is pretty nasty," Beau chimed in. "But we've both got over it pretty fast, so hopefully you'll start feeling better soon."
"Beau?" Jules sounded confused. "Wasn't I talking to Bella?"
"We're both here," I clarified. "You're on speaker. Like he said, we both kicked it after a day, so did Jeremy. Maybe you've just got a different strain or something."
"I don't think I have the same thing you two got," Jules said, barely more than a whisper, but sounding utterly miserable.
I frowned, and my brother was looking more concerned by the second. "What do you mean? What have you got?"
"I don't really know. It just… hurts. Everything hurts."
I didn't doubt her; it was obvious in every syllable that came through the speaker that she was in agony.
It felt like my heart was breaking. "What can we do?"
"Yeah," Beau added. "Is there anything you need, anything we can bring you?"
"No." She suddenly sounded as abrupt and cagey as her mother had on Friday night, though undercut with that horrible pain. "Don't come here. We don't need anything from you."
"If we were going to catch whatever you've got, we'd already have it by now," I tried to argue, but she seemed not to hear me – or perhaps she was ignoring me.
"Look, I'll call when you can come visit again, alright? Until then… it's best you just stay away."
"Jules…" I tried again, but this time she just cut me off, no longer even trying to be nice about it.
"I have to go," she said, her tone suddenly anxious and rushed, like something was hurrying her off the line.
"Call us when you're feeling better, okay?" I begged, matching her speed and urgency both to make sure she heard me before she hung up and in the hope that she would understand that I really wanted to know whether she was alright.
"Sure," she replied sharply, almost… disbelieving, as if she didn't think she was going to get better. Just how bad was this mystery illness?
There was a long silence as both of us waited for the other to end the call. My brother watched me worriedly, eventually catching my eye and making a 'go on then' sort of gesture with one hand.
Taking the hint but feeling like a traitor for doing it, I said, "See you soon, Jules."
"Not until I call," she warned, still barely more than that tiny, pained whisper, still with that anxious undertone, like she needed to get away. "Please don't come here until I call you, Bella."
"I won't," I sighed reluctantly. "Bye, Jules."
"Goodbye, Bella," she whispered, and I was sure I heard longing in her voice as she said my name. Then the line went dead as she hung up.
"Well…" Beau puffed out his cheeks and let all the air out in a rush. "Something's up with her, that's for sure."
"Yeah," I agreed, unable to get rid of my deep frown. "The only question is, what?"
My brother didn't have an answer, just letting out a hum of agreement and turning the TV back up. I watched but didn't really take in any of what was going on, too busy wondering, worrying, and trying to come to terms with the fact that, at least for now, there was nothing I could do but wait.
