Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just play with them. This story is rated M, and is not suitable for younger readers. Story contains violence, coarse language and sexual "situations". Please do not read if any of these things offends you.

Note: [Beta'ed by: adt216 & vasweetpea07]

Chapter 19 - Crack

Edward Cullen POV

I thought that I had experienced every type of girl there was. I thought that I had girls down to a science. I thought that I would end up writing the fucking book on girls. Then this fucking chick walks – or should I say crashes – into my life and makes me doubt I knew anything to begin with.

Who the hell does she think she is anyway?

Swan, Goose, Turkey - whatever the fuck her name was - would be the death of me.

She was so fucking unpredictable, and I had no way of knowing what to expect from her. She went from being shy and asking for forgiveness to being all cocky and shit. I tried to find a pattern in her behavior, but there was none. At first, I thought it had something to do with whether or not she had an audience or someone to save her. However, that clearly wasn't the case since she didn't have any trouble talking back and giving me shit in an empty hallway. Then again, maybe she was confident just because we were in a fucking hallway, surrounded by classrooms that were filled with students and teachers.

Not that any one of those poor suckers would ever step up and defend her fucking honor or anything anyway. She must have known that too. She couldn't be dense enough to think otherwise.

Another thing I noticed about her was that she must be in love with that plump bottom lip of hers, because she couldn't keep from biting it. It made her look all insecure and innocent but that was all a charade, because I had come to realize that she was anything but. The action kept distracting me, and the last thing I wanted was to think about her fucking lips.

The last thing I wanted to think about was her. Period.

I wanted to move the fuck on already, but nobody seemed to want to let me. I quickly realized something, though, and that was if I wanted them to get off my fucking back I had to act the way they wanted me to. I hated to have to stoop to that, I had my fucking integrity after all, but what other choice did I have? I wanted to move on, and this was my only option.

That was why I made Emmett ask her if she wanted a fucking ride home.

At least that was the reason I kept telling myself, even though it felt like a lie.

I had grabbed Swan's arm without thinking when she made that comment about her making the world a better place. That was the reason why she had been out there in the middle of nowhere that night. I would never admit it out loud, but that fucking comment freaked me the fuck out.

I had sounded like such a fucking pansy – I would have even given pansy-ass Emmett a run for his money – when I asked her if she had in fact jumped in front of my car.

Why was I even asking her this? What difference would it make?

It was as if time stood still as I waited for her to answer me. When she finally shook her head and replied in a quiet voice, I let out a breath I didn't even realize I had been holding.

"No, I didn't. But right now I kind of wish I did."

That was her fucking reply, and I can't for the life of me even remember what the hell I said in response to that. I was too fucking bewildered by the whole situation to pay any attention to the words that left my mouth, but I think I agreed with her.

It's easier if the bird dies, so you don't need to see it suffer.

Even then, as I sat in Emmett's car on our way home from dropping her off, I felt an odd twisting in my stomach. The twisting, turning, and overall unsettling feeling that I had been living with ever since the accident had intensified throughout the day. I almost felt sick.

Maybe I was coming down with something?

The bird flu maybe? Yeah, that would be hilarious.

Or maybe I was just fucking… bothered.

For some reason, the conversation I had with Swan in the hallway bothered me. There was no other fucking explanation for why it kept gnawing at me. It was not so much the accident anymore as it was what she had said and what I had said in response.

For some reason, my own words bothered me.

Why the hell did it bother me so much that I agreed with her? That the bird was better off dead. It wasn't like it wasn't the truth. I really felt that way, didn't I? There was no reason for me to lie just to make her feel better. She meant nothing to me; therefore, it shouldn't matter to me whether or not she lived or died. I should ignore her completely and do or say whatever I had to in order to make myself feel better.

That plan obviously backfired, for reasons unknown to me, since nothing I said or did made me feel even remotely better. It was quite the fucking opposite, actually. It all made me feel like shit, and I have no fucking idea why.

I had left her abruptly and stalked down the hallway as quickly as I could without running. I had reached the point where I could handle no more. I needed to get my ass as far away from her as possible if I wanted to remain sane.

I made one pivotal mistake though. I did the last fucking thing I should have done at that very moment. I would have remained sane if I had just kept myself from doing it. But I did it.

I looked back.

I did that just in time to see her stumble into a locker. Her tiny body was shaking as she leaned against it. I couldn't see her face, since she had her back towards me, but I assumed that the shaking was due to the fact that I had made the fucking Goose cry.

That was another thing that shouldn't have fucking bothered me, since my plan from the very beginning was to make her understand that she meant nothing to me. Making her cry should have been the best thing that could have happened at that moment. That meant she finally understood what I was saying. Just because I ran her over didn't mean it would change anything between us. She was just as irrelevant and worthless to me now as she had been before. I didn't give a damn about what happened to her, so she obviously shouldn't give a shit about me either. I needed her to stop saying shit like "I know you're hurting," as if she knew me.

Then why, with all that said, wasn't I pleased when I saw her break down like that? I should have been more than pleased that I had finally managed to get my point across.

I didn't feel pleased at all. Not even a little bit.

Seeing Swan break down just gave me another reason to get the hell away from there. I had quickly made my way down to the parking lot. My hands had instinctively gone to my pockets in search of my keys. I had furrowed my brows in confusion when my fingers didn't come in contact with the familiar metal objects. Then I remembered I didn't even have my fucking car.

Because my car was still in the fucking shop because I hit a fucking goose.

I couldn't even go to the parking lot without getting reminded of her.

I had gone over to Emmett's Jeep, figuring I could hide out in there for the last period and wait for Emmett. I had grabbed the door handle and… fucking nothing. The bastard had locked the fucking car. I knew for a fact that he never locked his goddamn car, but of course he would on the fucking day that I needed a little space.

At that point, I was fucking sure the day couldn't get any worse.

"Edward! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I spoke way too soon. I should have known better than to think I was in the clear.

I had turned around to see Alice walking up to me with determined steps.

"What the hell did you say to her? She was a total mess! What did you do, Edward?" she had asked in an exasperated tone. Her eyes had been flashing with anger, but the fire seemed to diminish when she saw my face. "Oh, Edward, seriously," she added with a tired sigh.

When she had taken a step forward, I had automatically taken a step back. I didn't want her near me. I needed my fucking space. She could play Swan's defender all she wanted, but I didn't need to stay there and listen to that shit.

"What did the Goose accuse of me now?" My intention had been to sound dark and menacing, but the effect had been ruined when my voice cracked on the word goose. Alice hadn't even flinched, she just sighed deeply again and shot me a sad smile.

"She didn't accuse you of anything, actually. All she said was I shouldn't worry about her, and that I should worry about you instead," she had told me with a soft voice. Her words puzzled me, and I had a hard time believing them.

I had given Swan the perfect opportunity to fuck up my life even more and make my friends take an even bigger leap away from me. I had served her the opportunity on a fucking silver platter. And what did she do with said opportunity? She didn't take it! Instead she… what the hell?

Nothing in this fucking world made any sense to me anymore. I thought I had shit figured out but apparently not. Not even my friends or my family were the people I thought they were.

"She said… what?" I had finally managed to croak in response, and Alice had smiled her annoying, all-knowing smile.

"She said that I should worry about you."

"Why?"

"Because you're my friend, silly," she had said and slapped my arm playfully. "We both know you're one of the biggest jerks in this school… hell, on this planet. But that doesn't change the fact that you're my friend and that I care about you." Her smile had grown wistful, and she tilted her head to the side as she gazed back at me. "I care about Isabella too, of course, but we don't need to talk about that right now…"

I had snorted at that, as I absentmindedly kicked a small pebble with my shoe.

I don't know why the hell Alice kept pushing this. Her obsession with Swan had gone from quirky and cute to fucking disturbing. What was Swan to her anyway? She was fucking nothing. They didn't know each other. They hadn't been childhood friends that had grown apart. Alice owed her nothing, and it made no sense to me why she suddenly tried to make friends with her. This was even before the accident. It would have made a little more sense if it had been after, because then it could easily have been passed off as guilt or some other shit. Although, that doesn't make much sense either, since Alice wasn't in the car – let alone driving it.

Then again, neither was Emmett.

"What else did she say?" I had muttered.

"That it wasn't her wellbeing I should be worried about… and seeing you now, I believe she's right. I might not know her, but if I were a betting girl, then I would bet she is coping far better than you are. You're a mess, Edward. A complete mess. You can deny it all you want, but your mask is beginning to crack, and so are you."

"Sounds to me like you're the one on crack," I had responded darkly, but of course this hadn't deterred her in the slightest in her mission to make me see the light.

Speaking of light, why didn't Swan just walk right into it? Why did she have to turn her back to it?

She would have done us both a huge favor walking into it.

"Why do you always have to be so stubborn? Why can't you just admit it? You're neither invisible nor invincible, you know, we can all see you falling apart. You can deny it all you want, but that only means it's gonna be messier when you finally break." She had said it with so much conviction in her voice that she almost swayed me into believing it myself. I probably would have, if I didn't know myself better than that. It took more than a fucking car accident to break me.

"You think you know everything. You can't predict the future."

"Maybe not, but I know you well enough to predict your imminent breakdown," she had replied simply. I had sighed in frustration and started to pace back and forth beside the car.

"Then what the hell do you suggest I do to prevent this imminent breakdown?" I had asked, though it was only partly sarcastic. I had been fucking curious to know what her solution to the problem was.

"I suggest you talk to someone, as in a profession-" she had begun, but I had cut her off before she got a chance to finish the sentence.

"A professional? As in a shrink? I'm not fucking crazy!" If looks could kill, then she should have died at that moment. Alice usually didn't push me past my limits, but even she must have known that she had crossed the fucking line by suggesting such a thing.

"I'm not saying you are. But what happened to you and Isabella is beyond anything any of us know how to handle. You can talk to us, sure, but I don't think we can help you much. You went through a traumatic experience and there are people with special training that know how to deal with this stuff."

She knew she had crossed the fucking line, but she kept pushing me by saying shit I didn't want to hear.

"I'm not gonna see a fucking shrink." My voice left no room for argument. It was fucking final.

"I'm not surprised you feel that way. But can you at least do something else? If not for yourself…then for your brother." I had stopped my pacing mid-step. I had quirked an eyebrow at her, silently asking her what the hell she meant. "Treat Isabella with a little more respect. I'm not saying you need to become her new best friend, but I think a little respect is called for. Stop calling her names. After everything… how can you not see that things have changed?"

"And how exactly is that related to Emmett in any fucking way?" I had asked with anger and frustration lacing my voice.

"Why don't you ask Emmett what he drew on her cast." She had thrown me an I-know-something-you-don't kind of smile, before she turned away and strutted her way back up to the school.

Alice was Alice, and I knew better than to let her shit affect me. Still, some of it must have made some sort of impact on me. How else could you explain what I did next? Fuck. Maybe I could claim temporary insanity or something.

Insanity brought on by Swan.

Maybe whatever she had was contagious?

Like I said. Bird flu.

"I was making the world a better place."

Her words were still ringing in my fucking ears. Maybe that was why I was so easily affected by Alice's words, though the words meant nothing to me. Fuck. It didn't require a rocket scientist to figure out what the hell Swan had meant with those words, and the fact that she said them with such raw sincerity freaked me the fuck out. She wasn't just saying it to fuck with me. She said it because she meant it.

I had continued with my pacing by the car. I hadn't gone back into the school until the final bell had rung for the day, and I went in to grab my shit from my locker. I had met up with Emmett on my way out, and we walked together to the car. But we didn't make it further than to the steps that led to the parking lot before we stopped. I had spotted Swan almost instantly, and it was then that I had done the stupidest thing ever. I had grabbed Emmett's arm to get his attention, and then nodded towards Swan, who was standing alone by the wall at the bottom of the steps.

"Ask her if she wants a fucking ride," I had almost growled at him.

He had looked down on me with a surprised look in his eyes, but the smile that had followed was anything but. He had been standing there, smiling at me like a fucking dweeb, that I had actually been forced to push him forward to even get him moving. By the way he was smiling, you would have thought Rose had just agreed to give him a BJ or something. I didn't understand why he smiled for the opportunity to ask the bird if she wanted a ride. That's no smiling matter.

He had finally walked down the steps to ask her, and I had made my way to the car. Not needing to see the shit. I had watched them from the car, and I don't know why I was fucking surprised when he came back without her. Emmett explained that she was waiting for her own fucking ride. For some reason, I was partly disgruntled that she didn't want a fucking ride. Since it would have been the easiest way for me to show to them all, especially Alice and Emmett, that I wasn't the guy that they painted me out to be.

"I must say, bro, I'm fucking surprised," Emmett said suddenly, effectively bringing me out of my musings. I rolled my eyes at his fucking tone, since I knew exactly what that fucking tone meant.

Condescending bastard.

"Why?" I asked with a clipped tone. "I can be fucking human too, you know."

"Yeah, I know, but I never thought I would see the day when you actually tried to be nice to her, even though you failed miserably. But I guess the fact that you wanted me to ask was proof enough. But fuck, man, did you have to pull that shit in the parking lot?" he asked, his pleased smile vanishing in an instant. "You didn't want me to ask her because you wanted to hurt her more, did you? That thing in the parking lot at the grocery store was just an accident… right?" He sounded so unsure it was fucking insulting.

"Of course it was a fucking accident. I just wanted to get her to the fucking car and she thought it was a good idea to scream bloody murder instead of telling me not to drag her," I muttered.

Emmett appeared to think that one over for a moment before nodding once. The pleased smile was back almost instantly.

"Bro, you're making fucking progress. At least you tried," he said.

Yeah, tried. I can't believe I actually did that in the first place. If I had known beforehand how it was going to go, then I obviously wouldn't have asked or said anything about it.

I blame the meddling pixie. Fucking Alice and her mind-fucking.

Emmett continued talking, but I wasn't paying attention anymore. My eyes scanned the road in front of us, and I was acutely aware of any movements in my peripheral view. My fingers were turning numb due to the death grip I had on the seat with my nails digging into the leather.

"You okay there, bro?" Emmett asked and turned his head fully to look at me.

"Eyes on the road, you idiot!" I snapped loudly. He jumped in surprise and immediately turned his eyes back on the road. He gripped the wheel tightly, and he looked a little confused for a moment before he threw me a quick glance.

"Fuck, man," he said and sounded a little breathless. "I thought I was going to hit something. You can't fucking yell like that. What the hell!"

"If you had kept your motherfucking eyes on the motherfucking road, then I wouldn't have needed to," I replied simply, and it felt as if those words could easily been applied to other aspects of my life as well. If people could just mind their own fucking business, then I wouldn't need to lash out and shit.

It was a damn simple logic; so why did they not get it?

Emmett kept throwing me these weird looks the rest of the way home. When we finally reached the house, I stumbled out of the car before he had even put it in park.

"Fuck, bro!" he called after me, as I made my way up to the front door. "I need help with the groceries!"

I didn't answer him or turn back for that matter. He could carry the goddamn groceries himself.

I threw open the front door and stomped my way upstairs to my room.

I needed a fucking shower to wash away all the traces of the epic fail that was today.

Dinner at the Cullen house was not what it used to be. There used to be laughter and talking, but now there was a dark ominous cloud hanging over us, enveloping us in an awkward and uncomfortable silence. I mostly picked at my chicken, not really eating any of it. I was fucking hungry, but I had no appetite. I felt oddly nauseous every time I tried to take a bite of the chicken, which smelled fucking delicious. I ended up just pushing it around on my plate.

Dad was absent since he was working late. As usual.

"How was school today?" Mom asked. I could tell she was trying to sound casual, but her voice held a tense undertone, which I did not understand.

"It was… school," I replied vaguely without even glancing her way. I kept my eyes on my plate, where I kept pushing the food around.

"I hope you kept yourselves out of troub-" she began, but she was cut short by the sound of crunching gravel outside. We all recognized the sound from Dad's Mercedes. I glanced at the grandfather clock, which stood in the corner of our dining room, and saw that it was barely six thirty. Dad usually never got home before seven pm at the earliest when he worked late.

We had all stilled our movements as we listened to the sound of Dad walking up to the house. Even Emmett seemed to be on edge. Dad walked in, and we heard him moving around in the living room before he stepped inside the dining room.

I couldn't help but look up when he entered, and he immediately met by gaze. His look was stern and serious, and he was frowning when he looked back at me.

I was in trouble again, I could tell.

Dad walked around the table and gave Mom a quick kiss before sitting down in his usual seat.

"How was work, honey?" Mom asked gently. Dad shot me another glance, before looking back at Mom and giving her a tired smile.

"It was work," he replied with a tired sigh and shook his head. "The whole mess with Dwyer seems to be spinning out of control. I've been looking over his old files all day, and I can't believe we let it go on for so long… how could we not see what this man was doing right under our noses all this time?" He sighed exasperatedly and poured himself a glass of wine. He took a deep drink before looking over at Emmett and me. "Speaking of which… care to tell me why Chief Swan called me at work an hour ago?"

Of course he did.

I glanced at Emmett, but he didn't seem affected in the slightest. Why would he though? If Chief Swan called Dad, of course it would have been about me. Something Swan told him I did.

"How would I know? I'm not a mind reader," I replied coolly.

"No, you are not. But apparently the two of you gave Isabella a ride home from school today," he continued. Mom shot me a surprised look.

"You did? That's nice," she said with a smile.

"Not really," Dad said and turned to look at Emmett. "Son, I know you probably only meant well by asking her if she needed a ride, but this situation is complicated enough as it is without you getting involved."

"Hey! It was not my fucking idea to give her a fucking ride!" Emmett protested wildly. Dad raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Did she ask for a ride?" he asked puzzled.

"Hardly," Emmett snorted and pointed at me with his fork. "He was the one who made me ask."

Geez, thanks for throwing me to the sharks, bro.

Dad's eyes darkened instantly as he looked at me.

"And why would you do such a thing?" he asked.

"I figured she needed a fucking ride, since she can't walk worth a damn on those damn crutches. I was trying to do a nice thing, okay?" I muttered.

"A nice thing? A nice thing? Really, Edward?" he echoed incredulously. "How many times do I need to tell you before you get it? You are to stay away from her! Chief Swan told me specifically to tell you that, yet again, on the phone today. He doesn't want you anywhere near his daughter. Why can't you respect that and leave her alone?"

"What the hell!" I all but yelled. "Nothing I do pleases you. People tell me I'm selfish and self-centered if I stay away and don't care about her. Then when I try to do a fucking nice thing for her, I get shit for that too. What the hell do you want from me?"

I pushed my chair back and was just about to leave the table when Dad stood up too.

"You sit back down right this minute!" he snapped loudly. "You are not leaving this room until I'm done. Understood?" I slowly sat down on my chair again, and he didn't sit down until I was seated. He sighed deeply and took a deep drink of his wine before speaking again. He had regained his calm composure, and it pissed me the fuck off. Why couldn't he keep yelling at me like a normal person? Why did he always have to be so damn collected all the time? "Edward, I think we really need to respect their wishes at this point. I know it was an accident. There is nothing we can do about that now, but Isabella is in for a hard and painful recovery. She shouldn't be forced to put up with your crap too. Leave her alone and let her recover in peace."

I scoffed silently and shook my head.

"She doesn't even want to recover…" I muttered without thinking.

"What's that?" Dad asked. I looked up and met his gaze, and I was surprised at what I found there. He looked surprised – not confused, which I would have expected - and not in a good way.

"I said that she doesn't even want to recover. The chick wants do die, end of story," I spat.

His eyes widened, not in surprise this time, but in shock.

"How… what… why would you say that?" he spluttered.

"Because she fucking told me, okay?" I snapped. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. He was quiet for a moment before speaking again.

"I… I want you to stay away from her. You have put her through enough. I don't want to tell you again," he said, and I could tell that it wasn't what he had intended to say at first. He gave me a stern look and I quirked an eyebrow at him. "You may leave now."

"Thank fucking God," I muttered and pushed back my chair and left the table.

I went up to my room, plopped down on my black leather couch, and grabbed my sketchbook from the floor. If I couldn't use music as an outlet for my anger, then sketching had to do.

My entire body was tense, almost to the point of it being painful. And not to be sounding like a girl or anything, but I would not have passed on a massage.

My hand moved freely over the page. I didn't even need to think I let my hand do all the thinking for me. I didn't care what I sketched anyway, as long as I did something, instead of staring into space like a fucking crazy person.

As I let the pen dance over the page in a random way, I thought about the look on Dad's face when I told him that Swan wanted to die.

The more I thought of it, I realized that the look of surprise on his face wasn't for what I said, but for the fact that I even said it in the first place. The shock was because he hadn't expected her to be the one to tell me that.

Surprise and shock, because I had found out something he already knew.

He already fucking knew.

I don't know why this pissed me off. Maybe because I wouldn't feel this… this… whatever this was, if I had known before. If he had told us, then I would have…

What? I would have… what?

Hell if I know, but I figured it would have changed things. It would have changed everything about today, and my interactions with her. If I had known then, what I knew now, then I would have known better than to go to Biology and risk having to talk to her in the first place.

I would have stayed the hell away, let her dwell in her misery and be suicidal.

Suicidal.

Even thinking of the word made me cringe.

What the fuck was up with that?

I don't know why the thought of suicide creeped me out so much. Maybe because I just couldn't grasp the fact that someone would willingly end their life, and therefore effectively remove any chance of doing anything ever again. Think about all the things you would miss just because you had a rough month and figured that suicide was the fucking answer.

How much pain do you have to be in to even be considering it?

What the hell could Swan feel so bad about that made her want to die? So what if she was the fucking Goose and nobody liked her. Was that really reason enough to kill herself? I didn't think so. I couldn't give a rat's ass if people didn't like me, and I sure as hell wouldn't kill myself over it. So what was her fucking problem?

I was brought out of my musings by a loud knock on my door. I didn't need to ask or look to know who it was. Only Emmett knocked like that. He entered my room without waiting for a response.

"So, bro… wanna do something?" he asked casually.

I looked up from my sketching and quirked an eyebrow at him. He was trying to look casual as he looked around my room, but it was too fucking forced for me not to be suspicious.

"What the hell do you want?" I asked.

He plopped down on my bed, and it creaked under his weight. He stared emptily in front of him and sighed deeply.

"Did she really tell you that?" he asked, and I groaned. He didn't need to specify. I knew what he meant. I wanted to fucking scream. Why couldn't we all just let it the fuck go already?

"Yeah, she did," I muttered. "So fucking what if she wants to die? It's not our fucking problem. She's nothing to us, so why should we care?"

"Do you really believe that? Fuck, man. It's fucking suicide. That's messed up," he replied and turned his head to look at me. "Why did she even tell you in the first place?"

"Maybe because she wanted me to help her out. Fuck if I know," I muttered. "Why do you care so much anyway? Before all this shit went down, you were just as quick as I was to call her Goose or laugh when she did something stupid. But now you're like her own personal fucking bodyguard. What's up with that shit?"

"I don't know… I guess I just feel bad for her, ya know? Her leg is seriously fucked up," he said.

"Yeah, and what am I supposed to do about it? You could care about her all you want, but her leg won't get any better," I muttered and returned to my sketching.

"I know that, but we can make shit easier for her, ya know…" he said slowly and gave me a pointed look. I rolled my eyes without looking at him.

"You can do whatever the fuck you want. I'm not even allowed near the chick, and even if I was allowed, I wouldn't want to get fucking involved with her anyway. So it's a dead end," I replied.

"Yeah, I know but-" He was cut off by a knock on the doorframe. We both turned our gazes to the door and saw Jasper standing there, leaning casually against it.

"Hey, dude, are we doing this or what?" Jasper asked and held up a small bag of weed.

"Yeah, we are. Thank God," Emmett said and stood up from the bed.

"Mind if I join ya? Or is this a dude-date?" I asked sarcastically. Jasper rolled his eyes.

"If you're gonna be all brooding and shit and bring us the fuck down, then no. You're not welcome. But if you can put shit off and just enjoy being high, then yeah, join us," he said seriously.

"Don't mind if I do," I sighed in relief and left the couch.

I followed them to Emmett's room, and Emmett locked the door behind us. I sat down on the floor and leaned back against his bed, and Jasper sat down next to me. Emmett went over to his French balcony and opened the door before he sat down with us too.

We didn't speak as we smoked. I had a feeling we were all thinking about the same thing anyway. The one thing we weren't supposed to talk about.

I took a deep drag of the joint and let the smoke linger in my lungs for a moment before I slowly breathed it out. I leaned my head back on the bed, and my eyes fell on the brown teddy bear that sat on one of Emmett's bookshelves. The teddy bear was dressed in a ridiculously ugly and faded blue t-shirt with the text "Brother Bear."

"That's so fucking gay," I said with a snort and chuckled humorlessly to myself.

"What is?" Jasper asked, before taking a deep drag of the joint.

"That," I said and pointed to the teddy bear. "It's so fucking gay. Why are you keeping that shit anyway?" I turned my head so I could look at Emmett. I was expecting him to laugh with me on this one, and admit it was fucking gay for an eighteen-year-old guy to have a fucking teddy bear on fucking display. Emmett wasn't laughing though. He just looked at it with a contemplative expression.

"Do you remember how I got it?" he asked, without tearing his eyes off of it.

"Yeah," I said with a lazy smirk. "We were supposed to go with Mom and Dad to Port Angeles for that fucking carnival… but you broke your fucking leg when you fell out of a tree… Dad had to take you to the hospital, while Mom took me to the carnival because I wouldn't stop bitching about it…"

I chuckled at the memory. I was five at the time and we were supposed to go to the carnival to celebrate Emmett's seventh birthday. Emmett used to climb trees like a fucking monkey when he was a kid. Just an hour before we were supposed to leave for Port Angeles, he fell out of one and broke his fucking leg. Needless to say, the only trip Emmett got to make that day was one to the hospital. I begged our mom to take me to the carnival anyway, and since Mom is such a pushover and unable to say the word "No," she took me there.

"Yeah…" Emmett said slowly. "Then you won that bear by hitting bottles or whatever it was… You remember what you said when you gave it to me when you got home?" I shook my head. That I did not remember. "You said… with the most serious expression I've ever seen you wear… even to this day… that, 'This bear will always look after you, and see to it that you will never hurt yourself again. Brother Bear is your bodyguard.'" Emmett smiled at the memory, and I couldn't help but smile too. Things used to be so fucking easy when you were a kid.

You were so fucking naïve, and thought for real that a fucking teddy bear could keep your brother safe from being hurt.

"Do you believe that though?" I chuckled. "That the fucking bear is your bodyguard?"

He half shrugged and smiled.

"I have yet to break another bone, right? That bear has some major mojo, so don't hate on the bear. It's got superpowers," he said with a serious tone, while gazing at it with that weird expression of his. I looked over at Jasper who met my gaze with a confused look in his eyes. A moment later, we both burst out laughing at the same time.

"Oh dear God, Em, that's so fucking gay!" I laughed. "That bear doesn't have any power. It's just a fucking toy for crying out loud. A toy I gave you because I didn't want it. I tried to win a dragon, but instead I got that one. The only superpower it has is that it's super lame."

Jasper and I continued laughing, but Emmett didn't join in. Instead, he just took a deep drag of the joint and slowly breathed the smoke out through his nose. All the while his eyes were glued to that fucking bear.

"So has Emmett told you about our trip?" Jasper asked, when our laughter had died down.

"What trip?"

"My family is going to Vermont next week. We're spending the entire week there to celebrate Thanksgiving. Rose and I were allowed to take our respective others with us this year," Jasper explained.

"What? You're all going to Vermont?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we are," Jasper said with a pleased smile. "I get to bring Alice and Rose gets to bring doofus. Feels like a fucking double date or some shit."

"Or some shit, yeah," I muttered. "And what the fuck am I supposed to do for an entire fucking week?" Jasper shrugged and I looked over at Emmett. He looked back at me with empty eyes.

"I don't know," Emmett said with a shrug. "Feel sorry for yourself?"

"Very fucking necessary, thanks Em," I muttered, sarcastically.

"Wasn't that what you had planned on doing anyway? The only difference is that we're not gonna be here to listen to your crap… not that we would have been listening anyway," he continued.

"Are we seriously getting into that again? C'mon," Jasper complained. "Yes, Edward is a self-centered asshole, who thinks only of himself. We knew that already. So why the hell are you fighting about it now?"

"We're not fighting about it. We're not even talking about it anymore," I replied icily and stood up. "In fact, we're not talking at all."

I stalked over to the door, and Emmett chuckled humorlessly as I passed him.

"Yeah, and if you're not talking to me, or us, then who are you gonna complain to?" Emmett asked. "Who are you gonna try to convince that you don't give a fucking crap about Swan when you just spent two hours after dinner drawing a fucking picture of her. Tell me again, brother, how much you don't care about her."

I glared at him, but he wasn't even looking at me. He was looking at that stupid teddy bear again.

"I was not drawing her!" I argued and he snorted. A somewhat smug smile was his only reply.

I shot him another glare before unlocking the door and walking out. I made a point by slamming it hard behind me. I walked back to my room and slammed that door too. For some reason, it made me feel better.

I stalked over to the couch and grabbed the sketchbook I left there. I looked down on the picture I had drawn and felt all the blood rush from my face as I looked down at it.

Emmett was fucking right.

I had spent two fucking hours on sketching Isabella Swan's fucking face.

With excruciatingly perfect detail too.

Her wavy hair was covering half her face and her eyes were gazing down. She didn't look sad, she just looked… empty.

I ripped the picture out of my sketchbook and threw it in the trash. I had to resist the urge to light the trashcan on fire in order to remove all evidence of the sketch ever existing.

My heart was pounding like crazy in my chest, and I was sure that it was going to jump right out. I gripped my hair and tried to take a few calming breaths.

That sketch could easily be explained. I'm sure.

No. It can't.

Yes. It can!

The only reason I drew her was because I had let my hand do all the walking. I hadn't thought much of anything when I drew. Swan was obviously on my mind because she was fucking up my life, so of course my subconscious mirrored that by drawing her face.

Of course. My subconscious. It's a scientific fact that the subconscious can do some crazy ass stuff if you don't pay close enough attention. Even though you know better.

My heart finally eased into its regular speed, and I sighed in relief.

I was not going to let this shit get to me. It meant nothing.

Nothing at all.

Nothing.

But when Swan didn't come to school the next day.

It meant something.