*DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to the Twilight Saga and it's characters. This is purely artistic fiction drawn in inspiration from Stephanie Meyers words.
*This story features dark Edward.
* Jacob maintains his pre-wolf personality, but a little animosity with his transformations.
*Includes a stronger Bella arc.
*The timeline begins after the infamous cliff jump incident in New Moon and divulges from the original.
*Quileute wolves do not imprint on anyone unless both parties are at least 18. There are NO huge age gaps (ex. 4 and 16), and it happens between anyone regardless of gender or sexual orientation.
*Quileute wolves also do not cut their hair out of respect for their personal and spiritual beliefs. It does not affect their transformations.
*There will be warnings for certain chapters that contain disturbing imagery that some may find triggering.
*This chapter features a pov change.
BELLA POV
We rode back to my house in total silence. I was lost in thought about what outfit I'd wear. The ideal outfit in question hopefully wouldn't appear too formal. I'd try to also avoid looking like a 'try hard'. My mind was sifting through the possible combinations of the garments I had in my dresser and closet. I tallied which ones might work versus clothes that absolutely wouldn't. Unfortunately, a large portion of my wardrobe was either old flannels or tattered, thrifted items. Almost everything was oversized and comfortable, the way I liked it. Once we arrived, I started my frantic search for the correct outfit.
"Bells, my dad won't care if you're in jeans and t-shirt, much less my t-shirt. It's just another day." Jake was lazily propped up against the sturdy oak headboard to my bed, he was messing with the dream catcher he had gifted to me before he became a wolf.
"I know. I want to look a little less like... well, like I just rolled out of bed."
That was a good explanation. At the same time, I think I was rationalizing my residual feelings of rejection from Billy when I dated Edward. I needed to somehow make up for my past immaturity. Could I do that with looking more put together? More grown up, maybe? Something that envisioned, 'I realized my mistake'. Yeah, that was it. I was an adult now, fully capable of making the right decisions.
"You don't look like that." He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed.
"Sometimes I do." I smoothed down my messy flop of deflated curls and wrung my hands together nervously.
"No, you always look beautiful to me."
I felt blush heat my cheeks. Jake never skimped on the praise, but it was different than anything I'd heard prior. It was down-to-earth, and genuine in nature. It helped me wrestle with my warped self-image.
"I think you'd say that even if I looked like death warmed over."
"Probably, because it's true." He stood and walked over to me, encompassing me in his arms. He stroked my hair absentmindedly. "You'll always be beautiful to me. Even when we're ninety-nine, wrinkly and gray."
The premise of that statement made my skin crawl. I didn't want to grow any older. I was already painfully geriatric as an eighteen-year-old. What would I be like past the age of twenty? Dust?
"Thanks for the terrible mental image. I don't think you'll want me when I'm droopy, have no teeth and can't stand on my own two feet without help."
"No offense, Bells... but you need help standing on your own two feet now. You'll most likely need a wheelchair when you turn thirty if you keep it up. That's okay—I promise to be the one to push you around in the old folks' home later on."
"Listen here, sir—" I wormed out of his hold to glare up at him. I hated when he brought up my age or the gap between our birthdays as is. I felt ancient.
"I'm listening." His face held a mischievous smirk, it showcased his shiny, off-white, pointy canine teeth. Had they always been that sharp? Was it strictly a wolf thing? Maybe I hadn't noticed before. He mockingly fanned his hand out behind his ear in the silence between us.
"D-don't be rude." I tried to focus on something else other than his knee buckling smile. I wanted very much to smack it right off his smug face. Or kiss it. Both. Definitely both. I'd pay him back later.
"I wasn't. I only speak the truth. I'll take care of you forever, Bella. I'll love you until my heart stops beating." The same hand that he raised behind his ear lowered and grasped my hand. He held it over his heart in his chest. It was steady, and a tad slower than mine.
"I think mine will stop waaay before yours. Seeing as how you're a supernatural werewolf-man who magically doesn't age and all."
"Not necessarily. The gene will slow down once I want it to. Then my physicality will catch up to my real age."
"Okay—I get what you're saying. By being a werewolf, you could look like a male supermodel even when you're sixty? If you wanted to? Damn, I'm kinda jealous, Jake."
"Hardy-har. I'm saying that I'll keep phasing until it's safe to stop. Most members of our tribe stop when there aren't any vamps around. That's when it's time to start a family."
Family. There's that word again. I still didn't know whether I wanted children. I didn't want them to bear all the burdens of my generational trauma. I spent long enough in counseling and therapy regarding it.
"Hmm, right. I'm gonna get back to what I was doing." I deflected. I didn't want to talk about it.
"Why do you get upset when I mention kids or having a family?"
I paused, staring blankly into the corner of the room, "I'm not upset." I forgot how Jake could read me so well. Better than myself sometimes.
"Bella, I can see it on your face." He rubbed the line of my jaw, his thumb brushed over my lower lip very carefully. "Is it because your parents divorced when you were young?"
"I don't know. I have a lot of aspirations still. I'm not sure if I'm ready for them yet."
"I wasn't saying you have to have kids right out the gate. There's college, and marriage before that."
"Yeah, I one-hundred-percent want to go to college first. Probably WSU, Berkeley, or Harvard. I haven't decided where yet. I want to apply to so many, but I might not want to leave Washington immediately."
"Wherever you go, I'll follow. Maryland, Texas, Alaska, it doesn't matter to me."
I drew my arms around myself, "Renee got pregnant with me when she was very young... She didn't outright say it growing up, but I always felt like I ruined her life by being born. She missed out on a lot of things." I scowled unintentionally.
"I know you didn't ruin her life. She's your mom, she loves you unconditionally. Charlie doesn't feel that way, either. Damn near killed him when you stopped visiting... me too."
I swallowed uneasily, "I know she loves me in her own way. Renee is a free spirit, and the responsibility of having a kid bogged her down—locked her in place. She's living her best life in Jacksonville now." I clicked my tongue against my cheek, "I'm making up for lost time with Charlie."
"The bottom line is that kids aren't for everyone. Is that how you feel on the subject?" He fixed my jaw so I would look up at him, "I think you're trying not to hurt my feelings. Bells, you don't have to please everyone. What do you really want?" I closed my eyes and sighed heavily.
He was right. I didn't want to hurt his feelings or say that... No one ever talks about the unfathomable pressure society puts on young women to have children. From the moment they hit puberty, girls are treated like baby-making machines and that's all they contribute to the world. Never-mind a career, or degree; kids are supposedly an integral, irreplaceable part of the status quo and establish a woman's true value. It's as if life can only be fulfilling as a mother, and is depressing and empty otherwise. In a heterosexual relationship, success is defined by how many children you have. A sterile woman is seen as useless and pitiful. I knew very early on that I wanted to go as far as I could with schooling and escape that reality. I wanted my freedom. That might have been the only thing Reneé and I had in common.
"I don't know what I want. I'm getting used to figuring out what I want." I told the truth. Ive been told I was empathetic, and nurturing as a person. That doesn't have to make me mother material.
"Bells, just say it. It's okay." He relaxed his hold, rubbing his thumb over my chin. "Please?" The unintentional and invisible layer of thick ice I was frozen in thawed.
"It's a multitude of things, Jake. I mean it when I say I'm figuring out who I am and that I also don't see having kids in my future right now. I might change my mind later. You might change my mind..." I felt heavy.
As much as I tried to deny it, I knew there was truth to that statement. There were many times I pictured kids with him. He might actually do it. I knew children with him would be a valid choice. Not an obligation or a patriarchal stepping stone in womanhood. If we had kids, he would love them as much as he loved me. They wouldn't define me or my potential, but rather enhance my capabilities. We would be happy.
"Don't let me persuade you, Bella. I could live a very long, happy life with just you. We don't have to have kids to complete that picture." He proclaimed.
His last sentence made my heart melt, inadvertently weakening my knees.
"You... could?" I locked eyes with him, shocked he would say that.
"Yes, I could. You're my partner—I value your thoughts and feelings. Kids can add to that equation, but they're not necessary in order to have a happy and healthy relationship." His sable-hued eyes were stern, I knew he meant every word. It was comforting to know he felt that way. Jacob was progressive, but also supportive and loving.
"I'm glad to hear that." I exhaled a held gulp of air, "can I please finish getting ready now?"
"Yeah, you can. But it's only 3:30. I told my dad we'd be heading over around 5. I doubt it takes you a whole hour and a half to get ready. I've seen you get ready for school in a quarter of that time." He laughed heartily.
"You'd be surprised. There's a lot of self-loathing and curse words involved in this particular process. The narrative changes when I actually try."
"None of that," he pulled me into his chest, "there'll be no self-loathing while I'm around. I'll help you see the beauty in everything you do. The wonder in who you are."
"I guess so." I breathed in his ocean musk and sighed. It was perfect in his arms. Nothing could touch me there, not even my darkest nightmares.
I continued, contemplating his words, "I can't promise anything, but I'll do my best."
"Show me what you're picking out. I wanna help." He released me, holding my hands for another few moments still.
"I don't think you can help with this," I worked my magic, "however, I could give you a mini fashion show. You could watch me try stuff on." I stole a peak at his expected response, a playful smile painted my lips. I was flirting. What a strange notion. It sounded better in my mind than what came out of my mouth.
"N-no, that's alright. You can show me the outfit you pick out, though." I could have sworn he was blushing. The low light of my room obscured the depth of his earthy, russet colored skin. I'd give him a break from my teasing for now.
"Let me know if you change your mind." I pulled from his arms and walked back to my pile of rejects and maybes on the floor in front of my closet. He scoffed at me from the bed, falling back into his favorite spot.
While I was digging through the few pairs of jeans, multiple shirts and other odds and ends, I reached the end of my closet. My hands touched a familiar, silky fabric. I pulled the jade green dress I wore for my 17th birthday out from the end of my closet. It was still covered in dried blood on the right side. I remember having to sneak into the house that night so Charlie didn't raise the alarm. The longer I held the material, I remembered many details of that night I had purposefully forgotten. More so repressed for my mental health. My face drained of color when I touched the hard, crinkly portion of the dress that was caked in old blood. It sounded like construction paper folding.
"Bella, what's that?" He leaned forward, sitting up ram-rod straight on my bed. His countenance filled with uncertain disgust.
"It's... something from a long time ago." I felt the room start to spin.
It was old blood, but it triggered a set of involuntary physical responses within me. I remembered being thrown into the glass table, the burning feeling that rocketed up spine when I made contact. The sure bruises that formed under my skin on my other arm and entire right side when I fell. The look in Edward's cold, soulless topaz eyes when he realized I was nothing but a delicate, paper thin rag-doll. All of it caused my brain to work overtime. I was swimming waist deep in anxious, nauseous thoughts. Drowning in my subconscious. At the time, I thought Edward saved my life. As I played that fateful night back in my mind, he never had as much control as he said he did in that terrifying moment. Jasper was restrained by Emmett and Carlisle before he even had a chance to reach for me. He was snarling, but wouldn't touch me. The whole family protected me. It wasn't necessary; why did he throw me? Over a paper cut? His actions weren't human.
"Hey, are you okay?" Jake rushed forward and hooked his right arm around my torso, the dress slid from my hands onto the floor with a muffled thump. The room was tilting and whirling like a carousel, but I was still standing still in the same spot.
"No. Feel like I might f-faint..." My stomach churned. Bile rose in my throat and lapped the back of my mouth. Blood always had this affect on me—I wondered why I had such a strong aversion to it.
"Easy, easy. I'm right here," there was slight panic in his voice, "let's sit you down." He helped me stumble over to my bed and plopped me down on top of the messy comforter. "I'll get you a glass of water and some saltines. Don't move."
My bedroom was devoid of sound. Some of the color returned to my face. I felt less woozy sitting on my bed but now I was uncomfortably warm. A thin sheen of perspiration gathered on my brow. Jake returned with his promised goods after scouring the kitchen.
"Bella, here. Take a drink," his voice was brittle, he was visibly worried.
"Thanks. I didn't feel very good for a moment there." I clutched the sleeve of saltine crackers and he held the glass of water because I was too shaky.
"You still look a little green. Eat the crackers, they'll help settle your stomach." He rubbed my back while I nibbled the corner of one. I took minuscule sips of the tap water between bites.
He continued, "why is that dress covered in blood? When you took it out of the closet, the smell smacked me in the face." Jake was deep in thought, "I'm surprised I didn't smell it earlier. It must have been hidden by the scent of all your other clothes."
"It's a long story."
I told him about the birthday party I didn't want and the paper cut that led to being launched into the air. I left out the part about Carlisle speaking to me about Edward's immortal soul, but I did mention him expertly sewing my arm up. There was a barely-there, thin, white line on my upper arm where I was cut. It couldn't be seen unless I was wearing a tank top. Jake was understandably furious, but only for a split second. The minutes that followed were monumentally better. He did his best to make sure I was okay after almost passing out. I finished a handful of saltines and half the cup. I don't think he would respond well to the story of James and the ballet studio.
"It's not your fault," he adamantly shook his head, "you couldn't have known that would happen." His eyes lit up briefly, "come to think of it, that might help us. We could put the dress on the battlefield—the vamps will go crazy for the scent. If it was still potent after all this time for me, then I know it would be worse for them."
"I was able to be of service after all, even as a weak human." I smiled unevenly.
"I can put it in a trash bag and keep it until the time comes. It's a win-win because then you don't have to worry about it ever again."
"I don't know why that makes me feel kinda weird." I grimaced.
"Is it the trash bag part? Sorta makes me sound like a serial killer disposing of a body, huh?"
"Only a little." I wheezed, tucking my head between my knees. Mistakenly, I had looked at the dress that was in a heap on the floor.
"Sorry. I'll be right back." Jake disappeared for a few more minutes, the dress slung under one of his muscly arms. I took that time to finalize my decision on what to wear. It was close to 4 in the afternoon now. Time was running out. When he returned, he gently talked me into finishing the water. It did help.
"I'm gonna shower. The outfit I picked out is on my bed if you want to look at it."
He nodded and resumed his spot. I left my room to walk to the bathroom down the hall, taking a little longer than usual while I showered. As the water cascaded over the contours of my overly pale skin, I watched it siphon down the drain slowly. After shampooing my roots and then ends at the recommendation of Alice, I worked a generous handful of expensive, conditioning hair mask into my long, auburn cast locks. She gave me a whole tub on a trip back from the Port Angela's mall despite my protest. I washed my body with my favorite strawberry scented body-wash, lathering the moisturizing suds into my dry skin with a damp washcloth. I felt a lot better and a whole lot more clean. When I went to turn the faucet handle, my scar glinted brightly under water droplets in the light from the sconce directly above me. I stared at the silvery, glittering moon shape etched in my skin and traced over it with the tip of my left index finger. The bottom of the bathroom was full of steam at this point and I knew I needed to hurry if I wanted to attempt to dry my hair.
I eventually turned off the hot water, grabbing a grey cotton towel from the linen closet inside the bathroom. I rubbed it over every inch of my skin, wrapping it tightly around my too-thin frame. I tucked in the corner into the top. I stared at my reflection in the mirror as the steam billowed out from under the door. It had only been a few days, but it was noticeable to me that my body was slowly returning to normal. Jake really was helping me to become myself again, one day at a time. Piece by little piece, just as he promised. I never doubted him. He was the only person that could manage that feat. I wiped my hand over the re-fogged mirror and brushed my teeth again. Shortly after, I ran the hairdryer through my much softer and newly silky tresses. I debated letting it air dry on the way to Billy's. The weather was getting even warmer outside and I was looking forward to the sunny drive to the reservation.
I completely skimmed over the fact that by leaving my clothes on the bed, I'd have to walk back into my room in just a towel. Jake would just have to leave my room while I changed. No big deal. The idea didn't bother me; I correctly predicted he would be flustered from it. I leisurely strolled into my room and found him distracted. Jake was messing with the ratty, brown teddy bear Charlie gave me when I was little. He was laying on his stomach this time, facing the doorway. He took up almost the entirety of the width of my queen bed with his torso and thighs alone, and I knew he wouldn't fit length wise either if he wasn't curled up.
"Silly me, I forgot that I needed to change into the clothes I left on the bed. Can you leave the room for a sec while I get dressed?" My voice startled him and he looked up at me standing a few steps in from the door frame. His face undeniably filled with deep blush. The golden light from the sunset reflecting in through the window easily revealed that. He averted his eyes and tilted his head to the left out of respect.
"I'm sorry—I'll leave." He hurriedly stood from the bed and awkwardly recalibrated. His tall, muscular frame shifted to face towards the door.
"It's just a towel, Jake. It's not like I walked in stark naked." How polite; he was cute when he was bashful. I was unsure how how I had so much confidence in myself right now. Normally I'd be a coward, but I think that Jake gave me the strength.
"B-but technically, you did." He did not face me, instead he started scuttling sideways towards the door. His steps were calculated, deliberate in pace. I felt his nervousness from here.
"Yeah, I'm naked under the towel. You're naked under your clothes. And?"
"Nothing, Bells." Jake made it to the door frame and shakily grasped the door handle. He anxiously fiddled with it, the same hand trembling lightly.
"You don't have to go out all the way if you don't want, just turn around. We've got to leave soon. Are you ready?"
"Yeah. As ready as I'll ever be." He turned his back, he inched forward an extra step out of the doorway and covered his face with his hands.
"Did you look at the outfit?" I unwrapped the towel and it crumpled to the floor. The faint thud reverberated in my room and caused him to jump. I stifled a tiny giggle.
"Yeah, it looks nice." His voice was muffled.
"I hope Billy likes it."
I dug in the top drawer of my dresser for underwear, settling on a matching black cotton, lace-adorned set. I slipped the soft material of my underwear on up over both legs and anchored it to the hollows of my hipbones. The bra was not quite as fast, I clasped it in the front and slid it around, fixing the straps into their correct places so they did not dig into my shoulders. I also adjusted them so they wouldn't fall down randomly. It might have been depraved of me, but a daydream about Jake turning around right now filled my mind. I envisioned him wrapping his arms around my bare midsection and kissing down the slope of my neck. Goosebumps peppered my skin, and I shivered. I remembered we needed to leave, sadly expelling the thought from my mind. Now was not the time to be thinking about that sort of stuff. I wondered if he really did want me in that way and whether he faked going along with the motions just to appease me. Blush filled my face and I wished he wasn't so proper, but appreciated it nonetheless. I still wanted him. It was amazing what being with the right person could do.
In my search through my massive collection of clothes earlier, most of which I had no choice in the matter, I found a nicer, newer pair of dark-wash jeans without holes in the knees. I paired them with a cotton, black blouse Alice forcibly gave me on a coerced shopping trip. I decided on flats that I'd grab once downstairs to make it a little more dressy. As a finishing touch, I fished for a plain silver chain from my jewelry box and pushed my bangs back with a black velvet headband that was on top of my dresser. The wooden, carved jewelry box was a gift from family years ago, but I owned very few pieces and never filled the inside up. Most of the jewelry I did have were pieces I wore daily and sentimental in purpose. Like the moonstone ring from Grandma Swanson and my turquoise bracelet from Charlie. I looked as nice I was ever willing to look without being too much.
"You can look now, Jake." I grabbed the towel off the floor and tossed it into the hamper to be washed later. He hesitated, slowly turning around again. He scrubbed his hands down his face in relief, a soft smile graced his full lips and he walked eagerly towards me.
"You look lovely. I'm sure my dad will think that, too." He pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"Thanks, I tried. Surprisingly, the amount of swearing drastically decreased." The phone downstairs began to ring. I was confused as to who was calling.
"I'll get it!" Before I had time to react, Jake ran towards the stairs at full speed and jumped to the bottom landing. The steps groaned with his weight once he landed. I lurched forward, peering over the railing. I was afraid he might hurt himself but stopped worrying. Werewolf—he's fine.
"You could have just walked down them like a normal person, you know." I whispered under my breath and followed him downstairs, putting on my shoes once I reached the door. I heard him talk on the phone for less than a minute and then he was beside me once again.
"It was Charlie. He's heading over there straight from the station."
"Ah. Good to know. Thanks for answering it, I would have just let the answering machine get it. Like a regular, non-wolfy person." I joked.
"You just wish you were as smooth as me, girl." He flashed his signature Jacob-y smile and my heart skipped a beat.
"In your dreams, Jake." He hugged me from behind, sneaking a prolonged kiss on my neck. That definitely didn't help my heart, which felt like it would burst out of my chest any moment.
"Let's get a move on." Jake released me and gently pushed me towards the door, lacing his fingers with mine afterwards.
The entire drive to Billy's house was too short. We took the bike, enjoying the warm spring air and the sun setting across the horizon. The ends of my hair dried perfectly from it. The best part was even after wearing the helmet, I didn't get helmet-hair. My stomach filled with butterflies when we pulled up the dirt drive to the house. I had no idea why I was acting this way. I was just here a few days ago, there was nothing different. Save for Billy actually being there today. Why was I acting this way? Because I wanted so desperately to be accepted? My dad's cruiser was already parked up front on the side of the house. Jake parked beside the garage and assisted me in getting off the motorcycle, I always had trouble with that part. Incoordination was a curse. I glanced up at the pale yellow light on inside the kitchen from the glass sliding-door.
"Okay—now I'm nervous." I said quietly, the bile from earlier returning.
"Remember what I said, Bells? My dad could care less what you're wearing. Just that you're safe and happy. He cares about you, not your outfit."
"I know that. It's something else. I hope he won't see me as tainted goods, or like I'm some sort of devilish harlot ruining you."
"What? What makes you think that?"
"I dunno. Probably because he paid you to crash my prom. And other times..." I peered at my feet, ringing my hands together again. Jake stowed my helmet into the side compartment of the bike and held my small hands in his.
"That was a long time ago. I talked to him about everything since then. Like I said, he cares about you. He was worried you'd get hurt. Or worse—end up dead." I swallowed hard, pushing the bile down.
"Right. I can see that now." I nodded, looking back up into his eyes, "are you ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be. You can do this. I'm right here, just squeeze my hand." He tilted my chin up and gifted a slow, ginger kiss to my lips. It helped clear my mind.
"Thanks, Jake. Let's go." I pulled out of his hold and walked towards the front door.
Once we entered, the strong and comforting scent of burning wood furnace and pine filled my nose. We shimmied through the narrow space to the kitchen and were greeted by Charlie, who actively stirred something on the old, tan gas stove. That surprised me deeply. Charlie didn't even know how to cook hamburger helper, much less anything else. Maybe Billy recruited him to help.
"Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up." I heard his voice before I saw him, Billy was parallel with and incidentally a little taller than the kitchen counter. I was right behind Jake. He was rolling chicken breasts in panko breading, "better late than never, son. 'Bout time you got here."
"I doubt it was him that was slow." Charlie mused, reaching for a hug from me. I complied, swallowing a retort. "I know my daughter. She's part snail."
"I didn't see you there, Bella. You were hidden behind the wall-of-muscle. You're a sight for sore eyes." Billy waved us in, his hands covered in the breading and egg yolk wash. "We're making chicken and pasta. I talked Charlie into being useful for once since I can't really do much anymore."
"You mean you need a working pair of legs, gramps. Don't worry, I have no problem volunteering for charity work," Charlie laughed wholeheartedly and Billy fired right back.
"Some of us use our brains instead of relying on their brawn. In my case, I was blessed with good looks and brains. What's your excuse?" Billy eyed Jake and then the sink, "speaking of brawn, you make a better door than a window, son. You're in the way." Jake must have read his mind and wheeled him over to the sink to wash his hands.
Billy continued, drying his hands, "come in Bella, sit down. Don't be a stranger—you're always welcome here."
"Right. Sorry." I mumbled. "Is there anything I can help with?"
"I think the pasta has a few more minutes. But if you could, kick your dad out of the kitchen. The chicken needs to go in the oven."
"On it." I playfully elbowed Charlie in the ribs and he raised his hands, backing away from the near boiling pot on the stove that he wasn't tending to anymore. I turned the temp down and stirred it with a wooden spoon I found beside the stove. Thinking proactively, I laid it across the top so it wouldn't boil over. I set a timer on the stove and put the chicken in just as Billy had asked.
"Jeez, sorry, I know I suck. I'll go do what I do best. Watch baseball and drink beer. Want one?" He glanced at Billy who was pulling a bowl of premade salad out of the fridge along with the beer in question. He set the salad onto the counter beside a stack of orange plates.
"I'll assume you're asking me, seeing as I'm the only other one in the room who can drink. Go easy on those, lightweight." Billy handed the rack of beer to Charlie and they disappeared into the living room. Jake and I exchanged glances and laughed to ourselves. I watched the pasta and had Jake test it when the noodles were cooked but before they became too mushy. He pulled the chicken out once the timer was done and placed it on hot pads on the counter.
"Hey old men—food's done." Jake called, getting out utensils for dinner and tongs for the salad.
"Phew. Get a whiff of that. You might have a career in cooking on your hands, Bella." Billy wheeled around the corner, noting the other spices and marinara sauce I added to the mixture.
Just chicken and pasta would have been great, but chicken carbonara sounded even better. I attributed my cooking prowess to Charlie's obliviousness and Renee's consistent absence growing up. We settled at the dining room table, Jake sat across the way from me.
"I was thinking more along the lines of chemical physicist. Maybe even biomedical engineer. We'll see how I feel after my bachelors degree."
"Wow. Disciplined, smart and a good cook? Can you rub off on Jacob? I don't think he's gonna pass high-school."
"Dad..." Jake grimaced, hiding his face in his hands.
"Really? Having a hard time studying, Jake?" Charlie arched an eyebrow, taking a poised bite of noodles.
"Actually, Jake's gonna get his GED. We're already working on it. He wants to go to a trade school for mechanics. Obviously, he'll start out as an apprentice. Once he gets his certifications, he'll look for a shop to put down roots at." I stuck up for him. Jake perked up, looking at me from across the counter.
"We, huh?" Billy asked, digging a large fork in the chicken carbonara. He piled some onto his plate with the noodles.
"Yeah..." I paused, "we've been studying together."
"A whole lot more than that, I'm sure," Billy joked. Charlie almost choked on the bite of chicken he was eating, he washed it down with more R .
"Dad!" Jake stifled a defeated groan and sighed. He was blushing, and gave a small shove to his Billy's shoulder.
"Well, I'm no spring chicken, son. But I'm pretty good at reading between the lines. Charlie already spilled the beans, anyway." I glared at my dad.
"We meant to tell you sooner. It's been a crazy couple of days." I explained, picking at the chicken on my plate.
"Yes, Harry's passing has been hard on all of us." The table went silent and the sound of the Mariner's game was audible in the background.
"I'm glad you have her to keep you grounded. Don't let him get into any more trouble, Bella." Billy touched my hand briefly, his expression softened.
"I'll do my best. He takes after his dad." I smiled warmly.
"I think he takes after his mom. She was very spirited, and Jake has her eyes. I miss her," Billy looked away, a wistful look swallowed his features. Another silence.
"You guys really are great together. Take care of each other. Learn from your old man, try not to fight a lot." Charlie added.
Jake and I locked eyes with each other and continued to finish our plates. Dinner was pretty much done and both Charlie and Billy went back into the living room to catch the fifth inning of the game.
"Okay—since we took over cooking, you guys get dishes." Jake asserted.
"Fair point, son. Do you guys have any other plans for the rest of the evening—" Billy nodded, giving a knowing glance.
"Just more studying." I interjected.
"Right, that's good. We're gonna party and be rowdy old farts. Don't let us weigh you down. Remember to lock the door on the way out, Jake." Charlie stood from the recliner in the living room. He knew we were going back to the house.
"Don't worry, I doubt anyone will try to break into the Chief of Police's house." I quipped, hugging Charlie.
"You never know, Bells. G' night, love you. Goodbye Jake." He pulled him in for a half hug as well.
"Be careful driving, Jacob. She's precious cargo." Jake leaned down to hug his dad tightly, and I followed suit. "Take the Rabbit this time."
"I will. I know." Sarah passed from a car accident. It was a sore subject for him. He didn't like Jake's motorcycle.
"You look beautiful, Bella. Thanks for coming over. It was good to see you again." He hugged me tightly for a moment. I felt all of my worries from earlier dissipate. Jake was right as usual.
We left after that, listening to his dad's advice and taking the VW Rabbit. It was hilarious to me because Jake could barely fit into it now with his height and muscly figure. He noticed that I was nearly bursting with laughter and scrunched his face up at me.
"What's so funny?" He squinted at me in the passenger seat.
"It's like a giant trying to get into a clown car. You're too tall, Jake." I chuckled.
"I can't help it. I did most of the build when I was a scrawny, little shrimp. Been a while since I drove her."
"It's a her?" I stared at him, a smile plastered on my face.
"All cars are hers. Boats, too. That's the law." He jested, starting the rabbit.
The drive back was interesting. Jake had the radio blaring, singing along to some of the songs that came on. He even persuaded me to join in at one point. I'm not the best singer, or dancer for that matter. Things were looking up. Tonight was like a night a normal teenager would have had, before I was thrown into the world of wolves and vampires. When we got back to the house, Jake parked down the same side street as last night. It eliminated the hassle of moving the car after he said 'good night'. I changed into pajamas, we brushed our teeth and settled onto my bed. My phone buzzed the moment I sat down beside him on the bed, text book in hand.
Bella, where are you right now? It's urgent. — ALICE
That was a strange question. Then again, Alice was strange in general. I loved her all the same. I typed a reply with the number keys of my phone, messing up a few times and rewriting it before sending it. Alice responded mere seconds afterwards.
I asked because Edward left his room. He wants to talk to you. — ALICE
My heart stopped inside my chest. What? What did that mean? I typed even faster this time, the adrenaline began pumping through my veins. Jake sensed my demeanor change and looked over my shoulder to read the messages. Another message came through while he was reading. My eyes went wide, and I dropped the phone onto the comforter involuntarily. He pulled me into his arms instinctively. I felt like I was going to be sick. The hairs raised on the back of my neck and the blood left my face.
I'm sorry I didn't warn you sooner. He said he's coming to see you. I tried to stop him. — ALICE
Did that mean now? What could I do? Where could we go? I was trapped all over again… I couldn't move; I couldn't think. My body was frozen in place.