Seven

Edward never showed up. Bella had gotten up early, showered, dressed, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

By the time Carlisle came back from work, she'd retreated into her bedroom, turned her music up, and tried to drown out the pain and humiliation of being stood up. She didn't understand why she felt hurt by Edward. It wasn't like they were dating or even knew each other. But she'd opened up a part of her that she hadn't to anyone, not even her uncle.

And then he'd called her a nobody.

"Birdie."

Tensing, she glanced at her door, opening her mouth to respond, but instead, pulled the blanket over her head and tried to fade away. He'd been trying to get her to talk to him for two days, and yet, she found it impossible to open up again.

In that moment, she wanted her mother more than ever.

She would have held her while she cried and promised her that some silly teenage boy wasn't worth getting so worked up about. Then she would have insisted they pig out on ice cream and cookies, watch silly chick flicks, and forget boys even existed. But her mother wasn't there anymore to tell her everything would be okay, that her broken heart would be healed, and that a goofy boy wasn't worth crying over.

"Birdie," Carlisle called out again; the sound of him trying to open the door rattled through the room, but she'd locked it. "Birdie, talk to me. Please?"

With a shake of her head, she threw the blanket off, stumbled to the door, turned the lock, and opened it just wide enough for him to see her.

"Birdie," he whispered, placing his hand on the wall outside her room. "I can stay if you need me to."

Bella shook her head.

He sighed. "Why won't you talk to me?"

Biting her lip, Bella shifted her eyes to the floor. What was she supposed to say? Her mother was gone, her stepfather (the man who had raised her for the last six years) had given up on her, and the first boy who had held her hand called her a nobody and then stood her up after begging her to give him a second chance. No, she couldn't say any of that, so she simply shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay," he said, his tone full of sorrow and sadness. "Call if you need me, okay?"

She nodded.

"Promise?"

Again, she nodded.

He gave her a look that clearly said he didn't believe her, then turned and walked away. She peered out her door until she saw him leave, the sound of the front door closing with a resounding thud. Slowly pressing her bedroom door closed, she turned and leaned against it before sliding to the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest and, once again, found herself crying.

—TBHC—

Late in the afternoon, the silence had started getting too loud, so Bella crept out of the house and wandered down to the beach. A part of her expected to find Edward waiting for her, maybe wearing his frog swim trunks again. But he wasn't waiting for her with his charming smile and promises of an adventure.

Wrapping her arms around herself, she walked further up the beach, trying to keep the tears from sliding down her face. A gentle breeze cascaded off the water, wrapping her in a warm embrace. She'd begged her mother to bring her back to the beach, back home.

Arizona was hot and dry, but it had been Phil's home, her mother said. He's going to be big one day, baby girl. We just have to support him. He needs me, needs us.

"Watch out!"

Bella turned just in time to see a giant ball of fur leaping toward her. Two large paws landed in the middle of her chest, pushing her backward into the sand. She opened her mouth to scream, but before she could utter a sound, the dog leaned down and proceeded to lick the left side of her face.

"Oh, my God, Buster! Get off her!"

A moment later, Bella felt Buster get yanked away. She pushed herself up onto her elbows, using one hand to shield the sun from her eyes as she peered up at the boy struggling to keep hold of an orange Tibetan Mastiff, who probably outweighed Bella by a solid ten pounds, and stood up to her shoulder He was trying to free himself from the tall, thin boy with shaggy blond hair who had the dogs leash wrapped around his hand several times.

"I am so sorry! He normally doesn't take off like that."

Bella stood, brushing sand off her legs before she nodded.

"Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head.

"You sure? You hit the ground pretty damn hard."

Bella nodded.

He pulled on Buster's leash once more. "You're new around here, aren't you?"

Again, she nodded.

"Thought so." He tightened his hold on the leash before saying, "I'm Jasper, but most people call me Whit."

"Why?" Bella asked.

He grinned. "Last name is Whitlock. Eventually everyone just shortened it to Whit."

She bit her lip as she nodded. "Guess that makes sense."

"You got a name?"

"Yes."

He raised an eyebrow as he grinned wider. "Are you going to tell me what it is?"

"Why should I?"

"So I know who to make Buster apologize to."

"He's a dog. He can't apologize."

Jasper gasped. "That's pretty presumptuous of you, don't you think?"

"No."

He laughed before kneeling next to his dog. "Buster, what do you say to the pretty girl?" Buster dug his paws into the sand before letting out a huffy bark. "That's Buster's way of saying I am so, so sorry for knocking you to the ground."

Bella smiled. "Well, that's okay, Buster."

Jasper stood. "I should probably get him home before he attacks another pretty girl." He took a step backward. "Hope to see you around, pretty girl."

Bella nodded.

Jasper grinned again before he and Buster turned and hurried back up the beach, leaving her by herself.

Thank you for all the AMAZING reviews! Big shoutout to Sunflower Fran for cleaning up my messes!