Sometimes you just need to hang out with your girlfriends. Um, I mean, your friends who are girls. Nobody here is gay. Promise.

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"Everything okay up there, Bells?" Charlie called from the bottom of the stairs.

I hope he didn't hear any of that. "Fine," I called back, hoping my voice wasn't as shaky as I felt.

"Your friends are pulling up."

I huffed, feeling completely unready to face company. I almost forgot. But I couldn't really tell them to just turn around and leave. Okay. Act normal. "Can you help me up here?"

Charlie was at the top of the stairs immediately. "Whatcha need?" He either didn't notice or politely ignored my hot cheeks and damp eyes.

I gestured to the homework. "There isn't room for four of us up here, but I can't get both that and me down." I hated to ask for help, but I'd been getting a lot of practice at it lately.

He scooped the stack of papers up briskly. "Need an arm, or are the crutches feeling good?"

Good wasn't exactly the word I would use. More like a necessary evil that I'm starting to get the hang of. "Yeah. I mean, no. They're fine. Thank you."

He looked skeptical, but retreated down the stairs with the homework. I followed more slowly, arriving just in time to wave at the girls as they tumbled through the door.

"Bella!" Jessica started to bounce toward me, but Angela pulled her back.

"No tackle hugs," the quiet girl reminded her with a smile.

"I haven't forgotten." Jessica rolled her eyes and then put on a dramatic show of hugging me very, very gently. By the end of it, all four of us were giggling and I was halfway sure that I'd seen Charlie's moustache twitch once or twice.

"Hi," I finally said once I could breathe again. My neck ached, but I was starting to get used to the sensation. "Nice to see you, too."

She towed me into the living room, where we settled ourselves in. The girls started pulling notebooks out of their backpacks and Charlie came to hover in the doorway.

"You need me around, Bells?"

I smiled brightly and waved him away. "Get out. Go do something fun. I'll be fine." I'm sure he wants to be somewhere other than here… he's spent so much time taking care of me.

"My mom's a nurse, Chief Swan," Jessica chimed in. "She's in good hands." She turned away from me, but not quite far enough to hide the wink she dropped him.

Charlie turned a laugh into a cough. "I'll get out of your hair, then. Do you good to get some girl time."

"Going fishing?" I asked as he tossed a weathered jacket over his flannel. Then my guilty conscience twinged. I hope he doesn't figure out that I eavesdropped on his phone call.

"Nope," he said, and if he had figured that out he didn't give any sign of it. "Too late in the day to head out to the lake." He flashed me a smile. Next to me, Sam tittered nervously. "No, just gonna get some errands done. Catch up with some folks. I'll be back to take you out to dinner."

As he headed out, Sam sighed dreamily. "Your dad is so hot."

"Eww!" I waved both hands in front of my face. "He's my dad!"

"Okay! And he's a hot dad! What do you want from me?!"

"For you to never say that again!" I squealed. It wasn't that she was wrong, exactly. I supposed that, by conventional standards, Charlie was a hot dad. He fell into the category of tall, dark, and handsome, in a sort of rugged, lumberjack-ish way. But my brain skittered away from the idea of Charlie—my Charlie—being hot.

Sam had both of her hands over her face and was giggling helplessly. Jessica started tearing off pieces of notebook paper, crumpling them up, and tossing them in her direction. Angela was just leaning back against the couch, grinning. It was a bigger smile than I was used to seeing on her face.

Curiosity overwhelmed me. "Okay, guys," I said, lowering my voice and leaning in. Jessica threw one last wad of paper and then mirrored me. "Has my dad ever—you know—dated anyone? Besides my mom?"

Angela was leaning in too now. "Ooh. Not that I can think of. Well —there was that one time—he took that one woman out to dinner a couple of times, and there was some gossip…"

"He arrested her, though," Jessica interrupted. "She was selling hard drugs to highschoolers. Conner's brother almost died, remember?"

"Of course I remember," Angela said patiently. "I was just saying, that's the only time I can think of something even close. My mom thinks he never really got over your mom leaving."

Sam had finally gotten over the giggles and joined the gossip circle. "Well, my mom says they never should have gotten together… but sometimes opposites attract."

"They can't have attracted that much if she left so fast," Jessica broke in, then squealed. I saw Angela discreetly tuck one hand back into her lap.

"My brother says—" Sam said, almost in a whisper, "—he says he thinks that Chief Swan is a man's man."

Jessica looked blank. "A what?"

"You know," Sam said, and now she was whispering. "A—a—"

"Oh," Jessica said, comprehension dawning. "A—man's man."

"You can just say gay," I interjected.

They both looked shocked. "In Forks?" Sam squeaked.

"Sometimes people are gay," I said with a shrug. I didn't think my dad was one of them, but Renee had had plenty of gay acquaintances. It was hard to be a party girl in a big city without making a few of them. "There was a lesbian in my class in Phoenix."

"I mean, of course there are gay people," Jessica said. "They just don't really talk about it here. You have to go to Seattle to be, like, out-loud gay."

"So has my dad… dated… guys?"

Sam shook her head vehemently. "Nuh-uh. I think Devin was just trying to be edgy. I've never heard of him dating anyone."

My curiosity was not satisfied, but it didn't seem like there even were any answers to be had. "Weird. I don't think he's still in love with my mom."

"Maybe he just likes the bachelor life?" Jessica offered tentatively.

Doubt reasserted itself. Maybe he does like living alone and he's getting tired of having me around. Maybe I should go to Florida… but… no. Edward isn't there. Probably couldn't be there. It's just one more year of school. Maybe he won't mind too much?

"Anyway," I said, changing the subject, "I heard something about the English essay?"

Angela flopped back against the couch with a little laugh. "My working title is The Not-So-Great-Gatsby. Do you think I can get a good grade if all I turn in is 'I hate everyone in this story equally'?"

"Of course you can," I said. "You just have to explain why, with examples from the book. English teachers love it when you hate the book."

Sam's phone rang. She made an apologetic face and excused herself to answer it.

I took the opportunity to look at my phone. It was already noon, and I was a little surprised that Edward wasn't here yet. I sent him a quick text. Coming over?

His reply was immediate. Later. Family stuff. Everything okay?

Yeah, I texted back, feeling unaccountably disappointed. This was probably the longest we'd spent apart since The Incident, and I felt a little like I was missing a limb. Or like I couldn't take a full breath.

Sam came back to the living room, frowning. "Have any of you heard anything from Lauren?"

"No, thank god," Jessica laughed, then sobered at the look on Sam's face. "Why?"

"She didn't come home last night," Sam said. "Her mom is calling around to see if she's with friends."

"She missed Chem yesterday," Angela said softly. "But there weren't any parties last night, were there?"

Sam shrugged. "Not that I know of."

Which meant no. Sam got invited to everything. "I think my dad was talking about this earlier," I said, realization dawning. "He took some calls and asked me a bunch of questions about her."

I wasn't sure if I was impressed by how deftly he'd managed the questions, or annoyed that he'd asked them like that instead of telling me what was happening. Both, I guess. Maybe I could take a page out of his book.

Jessica shrugged. "Maybe she's partying in the city. I've heard her talk about that before."

"I don't think she actually does that," Angela disagreed gently. "She just thinks it makes her sound important."

"Maybe she just ran away," Sam said. "I hope she did. Her parents are the worst. What?" she added defensively at Jessica's surprised expression. "People talk to me and I listen."

"I hope she's okay," I murmured. I didn't like her, but I didn't really wish any harm on her either.

"Me too," Jessica said briskly. "Now, have you looked at the guía de estudio? It's horrible!"

All four of us groaned, thoroughly distracted by the thought of the upcoming Spanish exam.