Hello from Austin! So sorry for the delay, I bought Wi-Fi to update on the plane yesterday, and it was a good plan until the ffn website wouldn't open *sobs* and now ffn won't open at all on my laptop at the airbnb, any IT gurus know wtf happened? Lol I decided to bite the bullet and update from my phone which is a whole other pain, but I'll go drink a marg about it now hahah didn't want to leave y'all hanging, hope the formatting doesn't look like shit/the typos are minimal!

See y'all again next week :3 Thanks so so so much for reading.

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twenty-two
you need to calm down
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While I'm still in bed Saturday morning, Jackson and Edward text me nearly seconds apart.

Jackson: Have you listened to the new episode yet?

Edward: Be ready by 6:30 tonight.

Seeing both of their names is a harsh reminder of my reality, but since I'm more excited to hear from Edward, I focus on his message first.

I start to reply to him, then remember I'm annoyed because the gala is later tonight, but we haven't talked since the day we kissed. On fucking Monday.

I didn't expect us to hang out every day after or even talk that often. But I didn't expect complete silence and space, either.

So, I might be salty.

In the grand scheme of life, five days is nothing.

But I also didn't expect us to kiss.

I didn't expect to like it so much.

I didn't expect to be thinking about it days later.

Talk about a mindfuck.

Getting out of bed, I brush my teeth, wash the sleep from my face, and change into athleisure. I make coffee, feed Lucy, then make my bed and plop down on it. A good twenty minutes have passed, and I thought making Edward wait a little would make me feel better, but it doesn't.

It's legitimately annoying how many of my plans don't work out.

Lying on my stomach, I finally reply.

Bella: Well, hello to you, too.

Edward: Good morning. Sorry my first text was abrupt. How are you?

Bella: I'm fine. Glad to see you're alive. Thought you might've walked into traffic again.

Edward: No, the woman I'm seeing asked me to stop doing that. She said she had a thing for me.

Bella: She has a thing for you being alive, yes. What makes you think we're still on for tonight? It's been five days since I've heard from you.

Edward: You were counting?

He fucking adds a smirking emoji.

Honestly, his joking is more attractive than if he were groveling. I like that he can take what I give and dish it back. And to be fair, I didn't try reaching out, either.

But I like giving him shit.

Bella: Blocking your number. Bye!

Edward: lol, don't. I'm sorry. I wanted to reach out, but I was preoccupied with some stuff, and as of two days ago, I'm an operating surgeon again.

I put aside my slight rejection because this is big for him.

Bella: I didn't think you'd be on the schedule that fast.

Edward: Me either, but some emergency surgeries came up.

Bella: Yikes. How'd it all go?

Edward: Really well. I get a little too focused when I work and might go quiet occasionally, but I promise you've been on my mind every day, and I've been looking forward to tonight.

I soften but don't cave yet.

Bella: That's sweet, but you kissed me (!) and then ghosted me.

Edward: Technically, you kissed me.

Bella: LOL BYE

Edward: It was a good kiss. A fucking fantastic kiss. I haven't stopped thinking about it. So if this is the last thing you see before you block me (you're joking, right?), just know I can't wait to kiss you again.

I sigh.

Melt.

It was a good kiss. And it might have ruined all future first kisses for me.

Bella: No, I'd never actually block you. I haven't stopped thinking about our kiss either.

Edward: You also didn't reach out to me. How do I know I wasn't the ghostee and you were the ghoster?

Bella: Oh, yeah, I was definitely avoiding you.

Edward: Ouch.

Bella: Kidding. We're good, I promise. I'm just giving you a hard time. I've been looking forward to tonight, too. Where is it going to be?

He sends a link to The Ruins, a wedding and event venue in Lower Queen Anne. I scroll through some pictures to get a feel for it, but it varies for every occasion.

Edward: Are you familiar with it?

Bella: No, but it looks fancy AF. If I knew how to whistle, I would.

Edward: AF?

Bella: as fuck

His name flashes across my screen, calling me. I answer, rolling onto my back and staring at the ceiling.

"Wait, you can't whistle?" he immediately asks. "You thought I was just gonna breeze past that little fun fact and not ask you to prove it?"

I smile. "How would I prove it?" I attempt to whistle, but air blows through my lips. "Is this a dealbreaker?"

"You think I'd be scared off that easily?"

"If you're looking for an out, maybe. Guys have dumped me for less."

"Like not being able to snap?"

"I know how to snap, dude," I say, sounding too defensive.

He laughs. "Okay, okay. And I'm not looking for an out, by the way. So get that out of your head."

I sigh. "Good. What time are we meeting up tonight?"

"We need to be there at 7, so I'll pick you up at 6:30."

"As in, you and Pete will pick me up?"

"Yeah."

A split-second decision comes to mind. "Can I drive us?"

"That's not necessary."

"I can't whistle, and you can't drive. What a pair we make," I joke.

"Sad as fuck."

I laugh. "You're a fast learner. I'm glad I could teach you how to stay young with cool slang."

"I'm not old. I'm only seven years older than you."

"Yeah, but being a surgeon adds fifteen years to your life. I don't make the rules."

"Also, I can drive," he insists. "I just choose not to. There's a difference."

"That's nice. I still want to drive us."

He hesitates. "Is it important to you?"

Not really, but I wonder if he'll open up more without Pete. And I don't need an audience while we're together.

"I just don't want to feel like someone is listening to us the entire time."

"Pete's a professional."

"Still. He's a third wheel."

"I can have his wife sit in the passenger seat so it feels like a double date," he jokes.

I groan. "Edward."

"If it's a problem, I can meet you at the venue. But I'd like to pick you up."

He's not budging, which makes me more curious about why he has a driver. I don't feel it's to impress others or flaunt his money.

"No, it's fine," I cave. "You can pick me up. Do your thing, Batman."

He laughs softly. "Thank you. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah. I'll be the one in the silky midnight blue dress," I taunt, my voice seductively husky, and he whistles. "Wow, way to rub that skill in my face."

I can hear his smile through the line. "I really can't wait to see you, Bella."

His voice is softly serious, sending a little thrill through me before we say bye and hang up.

Rolling onto my stomach, I grab a pillow and giddily scream into it.

It's stupidly satisfying. Extremely cringey. And such a lovergirl thing to do.

I don't get to revel in that light, excited feeling too long before I hear the front door open.

Leaving my room, I find Jasper in the entryway, removing a checked bag tag from his suitcase. He looks surprised, maybe even a little startled to see me.

"Welcome back," I say, happy to have him home, even if he looks exhausted. "What's that?"

"I dunno. Just the tag from the last time I flew." He balls the printed sticker in his hand.

I frown, trying to remember when that was. It must have been years ago, for his buddy's bachelor party.

"Miami?" I ask.

"Yeah," he mumbles. "I thought you'd already be at work, early bird."

I frown in disgust. "Ew. Never refer to me as that terrifying creature. And it's Saturday," I point out. "I'm surprised you drove back from Leavenworth this early, night owl."

"Owls are a thousand times more terrifying than the measly birds you're scared of," he says dryly, palming the back of his neck. "And I didn't drive back from the mountains this morning. I came back last night, but I stayed at Sam's."

I don't think Jasper realizes he just said his secret boyfriend's name aloud. Which means he must be distracted and tired. Also, he just gave me full confirmation that the man looking for him at the bar last week is the guy he's seeing.

"Sam?" I echo, trying not to make too big of a deal. "Is that…"

He meets my eyes, catching his slip-up before moving into the kitchen. "Yeah. That's the guy I'm seeing."

I follow him, treading carefully. "How was your trip, Mr. Eat, Pray, Love?" I joke. "How was the hike? Did you find yourself?"

He laughs softly. "Eh. It was fine," he says vaguely, tossing the bag tag into the garbage and sticking a coffee pod into the Keurig. "Got in some quality time with Sam, though."

He lies easily, and I narrow my eyes because Sam didn't go on the trip with him. And I wouldn't know any better if I hadn't randomly run into Sam at the bar the other night.

"That's interesting because Sam and I met last week. He showed up at the bar looking for you," I tell Jasper, watching his eyes narrow now. "He said he hadn't seen you in a few days. I thought you were inviting him on your trip?"

"Change of plans," he says, clipped. "I canceled on him because I wanted to be alone and worried it might give him the wrong impression about us if he came with me."

"So, sleeping in his bed last night doesn't give him any sort of impression?" I challenge, and Jasper huffs a laugh but says nothing. "Or did you lie about that and weren't at his place last night?"

"What's with the interrogation, Isa?" he asks, moving toward the fridge, grabbing a container of leftovers and the milk.

I laugh humorlessly. "It wasn't meant to be an interrogation. I was just teasing you. But what's with the lies? You could've just said Sam didn't go with you after all."

He forks some cold pasta into his mouth, then says, "I just didn't want it to be a whole thing."

"It's more of a thing now because you lied," I point out. "I couldn't have cared less if Sam was with you. I know he's just a situationship, and it's not serious between you two."

"It is serious, which is why I'm way too in my head about him," he says quietly. "Anyway, do you have plans later tonight? We can go get sushi, and you can tell me about your sleuthing date with Edward last week."

It feels like he's trying to change the subject, but I welcome it. I don't want to focus on any tension we sidestepped, especially since he just got home.

"I do have plans tonight," I say. "With… Edward."

"Oh. Shit. Okay. What are y'all doing?"

"Some swanky gala."

"And how does this event help you gain insight into Rosalie's disappearance?" he asks dryly.

"Shut up," I say, ignoring him because I know he's right. "He's coming here to pick me up at 6:30, but I didn't realize you'd be home, so…"

"Consider me gone. I'll go to work later and check on Dad."

"Thanks."

Jas breathes out a laugh, but it doesn't meet his eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that you're into Edward?"

I open my mouth.

Snap it shut.

Open it again.

Damn him and his perceptive ass.

"Edward's different than I imagined. And I already told you after he saved me from getting hit by a car that I was hasty with my plan and needed to chill out, but that I was still going to get close to him for information. That hasn't changed."

Jasper pours milk into his coffee, fighting a smirk. "So, what has changed?"

My feelings.

The effect Edward has on me.

The way I look forward to seeing him and how our interactions are starting to feel more real now that we've kissed.

"Nothing," I lie because Jasper isn't the only one who gets to have secrets.

"I realized something the other day. Wouldn't it make more sense to get closer to Jackson?"

"Why?" I ask warily, wondering if Jas somehow learned that Jackson and I talk more than he knows.

"Because Jackson is safer to interact with and could just as easily give you more information about the situation. Right?"

"Wrong. Whatever Jackson uncovers isn't necessarily concrete. Edward was there. He lived it. So, his version is the truth. Jackson is still trying to learn it."

"And this has nothing to do with Edward being attractive, right?"

"I'm not blind. Of course, he's handsome," I admit. "But just because he's hot doesn't mean anything."

"Okay, okay. I'm just trying to keep you in check here. Keep you honest with yourself."

Yeah, Jasper is good at that. And I'll admit, having him gone for almost two weeks is why I immersed myself in Edward Cullen. Jas wasn't here to hold me accountable or keep me grounded in reality.

"I'm being dumb and reckless in the smartest, safest way," I tell him. "Okay?"

Jas scoffs and moves back toward the fridge to put the milk away. "Yeah, you—" He pauses before he opens the door. "What's this?" he asks, his voice detached.

He's eyeing the drawing I secured to the fridge with a cat-butt magnet.

I expected him to laugh when he saw it. But even with just a few words, his tone is laced with irritation.

"It's the drawing you made as a kid. I found it, and—"

"Found it? You mean you went through my shit?" he interrupts, aggressively snatching the drawing, the cat-butt magnet flying off the fridge and onto the floor.

"Okay, chill," I say defensively. "Lucy ran under your bed last week, and when I was trying to get her out, I saw the box Dad gave us under there. I just wanted to look at some family photos that I haven't seen in a while. I promise I didn't look at anything else or snoop."

"Not fucking cool." He sticks the milk in the fridge and lets it slam shut, the contents inside the door rattling a bit.

I frown, fighting the urge to match his energy. He's never sunshine and rainbows, but today's mood feels even darker than usual. It makes me curious and a little confused.

"Why are you so pissed? I thought it was cute and would make you laugh."

"I don't go through your shit. That's all I'm saying," he mutters, folding the drawing and slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans.

"What's the big deal?"

"Nothing. It's not a big deal." He shakes his head, avoiding looking at me as he sips from his mug. "I'm just tired."

"Well, you shouldn't be. You just spent almost two weeks in the mountains by yourself. Sounds relaxing to me." Jas ignores my comment, and I watch him too closely to see he's still irritated. Before I let his sour mood affect me, I mutter, "Sorry, okay?"

His expression softens. "No. Fuck," he sighs. "I'm sorry, Isa. I'm a dick."

He sounds so sincere. So torn up and the slightest bit guilty about his overreaction.

I let it roll off my back.

"It's fine. Seriously. It's just a stupid drawing. It's not that deep," I insist, and he nods sagely. "I'm going to make breakfast before my nail appointment. You want some?"

"I'm good. Gonna go unpack," he says, leaving the kitchen.

Trying to shake my mood, I gather everything to make an omelet. I wait a few minutes to make sure Jas isn't going to come back, then stick earbuds in and play the latest episode of Mysterious Minds.

I haven't listened in a couple of weeks, and I'm not really sure why. I could write it off as being busy, but I know that's not the truth. If I had to pinpoint the reason, I'd say that maybe I haven't wanted to interact with Jackson. Or maybe I was worried I'd hear something more incriminating about Edward.

But since Jackson reached out today, I figure I'll catch up.

Ten minutes into the episode, Jackson says something that makes me pause, and defensiveness rises in my chest.

But it's not about Edward.

It's about Jasper.

"Can we talk about Jasper for a minute? Because Rosalie's twin brother makes me a little suspicious. I can't get a decent read on him. He's been the least cooperative with all of this, and I have to wonder—was he cooperative with the police? Where was he the night she disappeared? Did the police ever look into him, or was he automatically off the hook since he's family?"

Pausing the episode, I remove my earbuds and take the skillet off the burner to text Jackson.

Bella: What the fuck are you doing?

He replies immediately, like he knew this was coming.

Jackson: I've been waiting for your reaction to the episode and thought you would've listened when it aired a few days ago. Did you even listen to last week's? I never heard from you.

I ignore his questions.

Bella: Jasper as a suspect? Really?

Jackson: Something isn't adding up. Call it a gut feeling.

My hands shake as I type.

Bella: You're a dick. How's that for a gut feeling?

Jackson: I'm sorry, okay? I think we need to talk in person.

Bella: Bad idea. I can't guarantee I won't slap the fuck out of your face.

Jackson: I know I'd deserve it. But you deserve the truth and closure, Isa. Don't you want that? Let me do my thing.

I don't know what I want anymore, but smearing Jasper's name isn't an option. And knowing Dad might eventually hear makes me sick. He's harboring enough guilt; the last thing he needs is to entertain the false idea that his son could've had something to do with his daughter's disappearance.

Bella: Delete the episode.

Jackson: You know I can't do that. It already got a great response. Tons of people are talking on Twitter and Reddit. And I didn't say anything I didn't believe. It would look bad to my following.

Bella: I don't care about your fucking listeners!

Jackson: I understand you're mad. Until I confirm the anonymous tip we got, I need to explore all other theories, and Jasper's involvement is one of them.

Bella: You honestly think he killed his twin sister? Why would he do that?

He tries calling me, and I send him to voicemail.

Bella: I can't talk. Jasper is home, and I'm not about to have this insane conversation with him in the other room.

Jackson: Step outside. Please.

I begrudgingly do as he says and slip out the back door because laying into him over the phone will feel better than over text.

When he calls this time, I answer with, "What do you want, asshole?"

"I know you're upset. And I'm unsure of his motive," Jackson replies. "Was he ever jealous? Did he have a temper? Does it ever feel like he's hiding something?"

I grind my teeth. "No."

I can't help but think about Jasper's surprising overreaction to finding the drawing on the fridge and his lie about Sam going to the mountains with him. Yeah, both were strange and out of character for him, but neither had to do with Rosalie. They're isolated events and don't mean he's a fucking suspect.

"I know she did better in school than he did. Maybe some competition? I'm not ruling out an accidental death here. Maybe he was scared to come forward," he suggests. "I just don't know enough yet. It's both frustrating and thrilling."

He's speaking so matter-of-fact. So heartless. It's like we're a puzzle, and he's merely putting it together to move on.

"Fuck you," I hiss. "This is my life. My family. You get to walk away when this is all said and done, but I don't."

He sighs, undeterred. "I'll be back in Seattle mid-week. Meet up with me. You need to know about the anonymous tip, but it needs to be in person so we can devise a plan."

"Devise a—what?"

"I need your help," he says, sounding contrite. "I'm asking for your help, Isa."

I laugh humorlessly. "You're not getting shit from me. Especially now."

"The anonymous tip doesn't have to do with Jasper," he clarifies. "You helping me with this will clear his name faster. Because if there's any inkling of truth to what we received…"

I'm torn.

Jackson knows exactly what he's doing, too. Line in hand, dangling the lure and waiting for me to bite.

"Tell me what it is," I urge.

"I will. In person."

"No. Now."

The line is quiet.

He hesitates. "Are you alone?"

"No, I already told you, Jas—"

"Go to your car. I don't know how you're going to react to this."

My heart races. I head back inside, grab my keys, and exit through the front door to sit in my car without turning it on.

"Okay. I'm alone."

"You can't tell anyone. Swear to me. I don't need this—"

"Just tell me," I snap.

With his following words, my world tilts.

"Rosalie might've been pregnant."