Chapter 39

In the garden would you trust me
If I told you it was just a summer thing?
I'm only 17, I don't know anything
But I know I miss you -Betty, Taylor Swift

Jacob

Refreshed after a steaming hot shower, I toweled dry and was on my way back to my dorm suite when I spotted the large mirror bolted to the cement wall. A remark Quil made about me getting skinny over the summer popped into my mind. I did get a little lean with all the extra conditioning I'd been doing, but I was still within the middleweight division, fighting at one-hundred and sixty-five pounds. So, he had to be joking. Removing the dampened towel from my waist, I wiped away a patch of vapor blocking my reflection, then re-wrapped it around my hips. I flexed into a double bicep pose, rippling with defined muscles, plumped veins, and deep-cut abs. I smirked. Skinny, my ass. Jealous, is more like it.

When I got back to the suite that I shared with Quil and Embry, I slid on some jeans and searched inside my footlocker for a shirt to wear. A knock sounded on the door. I glanced over my shoulder as Seth entered the room. "What's up?" I asked.

"A bunch of us are going down to the c-store to get some snacks. Want to go? Quil and Embry are waiting downstairs."

"No, I better not. I've got too much homework." I pulled a clean shirt down over my head then looked for some socks, deciding tomorrow was a good day to do laundry. "Do me a favor, and get me something, though. A bag of Doritos, some Tabasco, and a quart of milk."

Seth spread out his empty hand to show me he needed some money.

"Over there in my wallet in the drawer." I waved my hand toward the desk and sat down on the twin-sized bed to put on my socks. I was about to tie my shoes when I noticed Seth was taking too long. I straightened up to see why and caught him gripped by something else inside the drawer. I didn't have to guess what. My pictures of Bella.

Aggravated by his staring, I shot to my feet with an abrupt urge to knock him away from my things. My quick movement jarred him, and he banged the drawer shut, turning toward me with the money in his hand and a question on his face so clear that I knew what it was before he even asked it. "Why did you break-up?"

It was a conversation I avoided getting into with him since our first day back at school. "Do me another favor and don't ask, okay? I don't want to talk about it."

He knew when not to press an issue with me, so as he headed for the door, in no way did I expect the nosey shit to say, "Dumb ass!"

Storming behind him as he lengthened his stride, I slammed the door closed, pissed. I kicked off the untied shoes, sending one of them skidding beneath the bed and thudding against the wall.

Even though I finally spilled my guts to him about my feelings for Bella, I didn't owe him an explanation for anything that went on between us. I didn't care what Seth knew, thought he knew, or heard; it was none of his damn business!

Besides, I wasn't ready to tell anybody how badly I left things between me and her.

A moment later, I took the pictures out myself. Staring at the photo of us, side by side with our arms around each other, taken by her mom outside their house, I remembered when Renee told me she was saving Bella for me. I cracked a smile. It was a weird statement, but it would have been nice if it were possible. I flipped to the one Leah snapped at the ferry terminal of me and Bella locked in a long kiss goodbye. We were so focused on one another that last day, it seemed like we spent the entire time alone while waiting for the ferry to board passengers. If not for the picture, I wouldn't have remembered Leah was even there.

The last was my favorite, a close-up shot I captured of her on Second Beach, when a golden summer sunset cast light on her in a way that brought out her natural beauty. She wore a smile but contained a sadness in her eyes. As I studied the picture, her expression finally made sense. Because it was the day she mentioned ending things once I left. It was also the day I decided we weren't going to break up. Shit. It would have been so much easier if I just let her have her way.

I remembered how I ruined us like it was yesterday. "Dumb fuck is more accurate." While I focused on the sad characteristic in her eyes, my heart reloaded the turmoil and grief of the last few weeks.

"Why are you even going out? You can't behave better than an asshole in the mood you're in!" Rachel said, yelling at me for slamming crap around the bedroom during her favorite television show, after I hung-up on Bella.

"Mind your own business!" I ignored her glare when I stomped out of the house and jumped inside the car with Charlotte.

It didn't take me long to realize Rachel was right. My mood became even shittier, trying to force myself into the party spirit. I didn't care to hide, not wanting to be there from anyone who approached me.

The amount of negative energy seeping from my pours could bring everybody's night down, or so Charlotte said, offering me a solo cup topped-off with foam. I snatched the cup out of her hand and guzzled a couple of-well, way more than a couple-cups of rotten-tasting keg beer to loosen up, grimacing after every chug. Because I wasn't a drinker, that didn't work out for me. What started out as brief interactions between me and Charlotte got out of hand. The next thing I knew... I was in the backseat of Charlotte's car, and I was doing with her what I didn't even do with Bella yet.

It would be a lie to say I got so drunk I didn't know what I was doing. When the truth was; I just got drunk enough not to care about anybody but myself.

I woke up in the morning, hung over, feeling miserable about the argument and sick about what I did, but I made no excuse for myself. Excuses weren't my thing. I didn't make excuses for losing a fight, failing a test, or flunking a class. Or, for when I did something so terrible or so stupid, there was a consequence to face. I always took responsibility for my actions. So, when I opened my eyes, head aching and stomach knotting in shame, I knew whatever kind of relationship me and Bella had was over.

Blame was another issue. I blamed Bella for the argument. I wouldn't have even taken a drink if not for our fight. I hated alcohol, and I hated alcoholism. I lay in bed and thought about how the argument started. I understood her jealousy. It was the way I felt when she said she spent a day in Seattle with some guy I didn't know. But you didn't see me haul off and accuse her of doing something wrong.

Charlotte was just like one of the guys. She was hot, but I honestly wasn't interested in her like that. She wasn't interested in me either, as far as I knew at the time. Hard to say that now but it was still true.

Bella just refused to trust me. I couldn't stand knowing that. Trusting was difficult for me, too, but I chose to trust Bella, even after she didn't tell me about Seth. We had to trust each other, so we could last. I really thought we could last. And I thought we were together. That's what set me off the most about the fight. If we weren't together, then why was she so fucking bothered by Charlotte? That was a load of shit, though, and regardless of what Bella said, I knew in my heart we were together. The guilt eating me up inside told me so.

Because my mind was such a mess, I decided not to call her until I had time to sort things through. Obviously, she was still pissed off or she would have called me first. I was actually glad she didn't. On the third day, I knew somebody had to call somebody. I figured it may as well be me. I'd already went through too many rounds with myself about what to do and what to say that I just wanted to get it over with. By this time, the argument and what happened with Charlotte afterward took on a surreal vibe. I'd become numb to the situation, barely hearing a word Bella said in the opening minutes of our conversation or remembering anything I was saying back while we made our way through small talk. I felt strange, too calm. Cold inside.

Once we hit the awkward silence, though, I jumped straight in and said, "I don't know how you feel about this anymore, Bella, but you were right. This isn't working."

Judging by the long, tense quiet that followed, I could tell she didn't expect to hear that. She finally said, "Jake, I know I said some things I shouldn't have said. Things I didn't mean. I know you're pissed at me, and I'm sorry. But I was about to say the opposite. I want to make this work, so can we talk about it? I can explain."

I groaned inside. Why couldn't we ever be on the same page at the same time? "No. I should have listened to you. Trying to work this long distance wasn't a good idea from the start. I know that now."

Nothing we could say to each other would change the fact that we already proved we couldn't make it work, and with me proving it the worst way. Even if I still wanted to try, we were beyond that point now. I knew it even if she didn't.

That stupid fight was just a bump in the road we should have rolled right over.

"Slow down a minute, Jake," she said, anger in her voice. "So, I got jealous and blew everything out of proportion the other night. But you're blowing everything out of proportion today. We had a fight, so what? Couples have them all the time."

I rolled my eyes and spit out, "Oh, so we're a couple now."

"Stop it, Jake!"

It was plain she just wanted to makeup, but I couldn't do that; it was too late, and I was confused, and the fact she started the argument that put us in this position twisted me with anger. More than that, I was ashamed of how I handled it, and I thought I would drown in guilt if I didn't suffer the consequence. " Bella, what can't you understand? I don't want to do this anymore, pretending it's all good when we both know it's not. I'm not doing it anymore... No matter what. I'm done!" I realized how heartless I sounded but I needed to finish what I started.

"So, what happens now? Do we just hang-up the phone and never talk again? Can... Can we still talk?" Her voice was so clogged, her last question barely squeaked out.

I couldn't believe she'd still want to talk to me after this. "I don't know. Maybe..." I thought about the pressure of talking to her as if nothing ever happened, then said, "We can't have it both ways, Bella. It would feel too much the same."

After I said that, we listened to dead air. It was like there was nothing left to say but we didn't want to disconnect either. Eventually, I asked, "Okay, Bella?"

She huffed, and when she said okay back, she said it with such a devastated tone my heart hurt. I closed my eyes and turned away from the receiver, disgusted with myself.

I thought we were finished, but it seemed she still wasn't ready to hang-up. After another period of silence, I figured she didn't want to be the person to say bye, so I said, "Hey, I'm gonna go ahead and hang up now."

"Wait a minute, Jacob... When you were out with Charlotte, did something happen between you?"

I didn't intend to tell her anything about me and Charlotte. I couldn't decide if that was to protect her or to protect myself. It was something me and my conscience went around and around about. But now that she was asking, she had the right to know.

Only, I couldn't bring myself to say it, as simple as "yes" was. Instead, I asked, "What do you think?"

"I think it did. It must have because if it didn't, you wouldn't be acting this way right now."

I wanted to say sorry to her, but I bit down on the apology stinging my tongue. Sorry was a worthless word under the circumstances. It was tantamount to a slap. I said the only thing that came to me that would let me admit it without literally admitting it. "Well, now you know."

"Yeah, I guess I do. Goodbye, Jake!" Before she clicked off, she muttered with tears in her voice, "God... You took the first chance you got and couldn't even wait five minutes for us to figure this out, could you?"

I sunk into a fog for a few days after. When the fog cleared, the pain of losing Bella crashed through me like a tsunami, screwing me up to the point of self destruction. Like always, I went for a long run to clear my head. When that didn't work, I ended up bloodying my fists against the metal dumpster behind the house. I was just lucky I didn't break my hands. I knew then I needed to talk to somebody before I hurt myself in a worse way.

I couldn't talk to my parents because they had their own problems. Mom with her health and Dad with his addiction. They didn't need mine. Rachel and Rebecca lived in their own personal dramas. Embry would have made a joke. "But you were on a break," like we were some mother fucking Friends episode. And Quil would have said, "Fuck it. Find someone else."

Emmett was the best equipped friend to unload my problems on whenever I needed it. He joked but when it came to something serious, he took it that way and offered his best advice. I figured it was because Charlie was such a great dad, setting good examples. Since it involved Bella, he wasn't an option.

I called the only other person I thought would understand. Old Ben. When Tia put him on the phone and I heard his voice, I barely contained my tears as I started telling him how I'd been feeling since I got beat out of Nationals.

"You're too hard on yourself, Jacob, always been. You need to be patient with yourself and your boxing. Give yourself time to grow as a fighter and as a man and keep believing that everything that happens inside that ring, including the losses, are necessary on your path to success. Sure you'll have setbacks, everybody does. Let them make you, son!"

I wiped away the few tears squeezing their way from my eyes.

"Now, do you want to tell me what brought this on tonight?"

"I broke up with my girlfriend." That was all I could get out. He waited, but I said nothing more.

"Well... If you've been taking the same stance in your relationships as your boxing, forcing your way through it, I could see why you're having problems. You can't rush these things, Jake. Take some time to learn who you are, and when the time's right, you'll find it works out the way it's meant to be."

As I listened, I wondered if he hurt the same when he chose to give up boxing to become a working man for Tia and his kids. So, I asked him, "Ben, do you ever regret not becoming a professional fighter?"

"Shoot. I'm a natural-born family man. I was seventeen years young when I had my first kid. Shi- I was as young as you are now." I smiled about the squeak he made and pictured him smiling, too.

"Tia was only sixteen. A lot of teenage boys would have headed for the hills if they knocked-up their girlfriend. Some did. Not me. I couldn't wait to be a dad and start playing house with her. So, if you're asking if I would do things differently given the chance, the answer's no. I wouldn't change a thing.

"Living in La Push and serving in the community, working a regular job during the day, then working with you kids in the evening, and going home to Tia at night, are the best things in my life.

"The time I spend with all the young fighters that come through the club, your dad included, giving them something good to do to help them stay away from alcohol and drugs and watching everyone grow up just the way I did with my own kids. Well, I wouldn't change that for nothing. So, I say, I'm right where I belong."

I thought so, too, because after talking to him, I felt better, so much better.

He helped me see that there was more going on with me than I knew. The pressure had been building in me since Nationals, maybe longer, and getting beat out of the tournament early affected me horribly. It wasn't as if I didn't know my goals were mountainous. I was reaching for the stars. I always knew in my head just how hard it would be. But for the first time, after that loss, I knew it in my heart. It suddenly seemed like my future, the only future I ever imagined, was at stake.

The day of the beach party, during practice, Alec asked me if I planned on coming back to California over Christmas break. Bella expected me home for Christmas. We were looking forward to each other, but I no longer knew if I should go home to Washington. I didn't get a free ride back to Nationals with the up-and-coming season. I needed to earn my way there again.

I told Alec I wasn't sure. Deep down, I must have already decided. So, I knew Bella and I wouldn't see each other again for close to a year. Prom. That's why I became desperate for her to trust me and got so angry when she didn't. This root cause didn't show itself until Marcus, the training manager, asked the same question before I left, and I could tell him yes without a worry.

I had a new plan now. I'd dedicate the year to getting back to Nationals, focused solely on boxing until the tournament was over. Do it right this time. Then, win or lose, I could go home to La Push, satisfied I gave it my all. School would be over by then. Rachel was helping me get enrolled in the University of Washington, and hopefully Bella would take me back. No! I would get her to take me back. Like Ben said, when the time was right, it would all work out the way it's meant to work out. She and I were meant for each other. I loved her since I was fourteen. That wouldn't end. If possible, it would have already happened.

Lifting the photo of her, I touched it to my lips, then put the pictures away, excited it was my last year of school and pumped boxing season was about to begin again. It's time to get this show back on the road.

Does Jake deserve another chance?

Next Time: Something surprising happens over the holiday break.