Charlie was home by the time I got back. He was in the kitchen with the two sirloin steaks he had bought the day before. A jar of seasoning was in his right hand shaking out the powder as his left rubbed it into the steaks. He didn't look away from his task as he asked, "What did Max think of your head?"

It took a moment for my brain to process the question. My focus had gone back and forth on Tanya since I left the bookstore. I still didn't trust her or her family, but I had to admit they appeared to respect my need for distance—something the Cullens had never done when I was with them. In fact, I hadn't been able to recall a single time they had respected my choices or opinions. It was an admittedly important difference, and it had continued poking my brain on the way home.

I took off my bag and dropped it on the floor. "He liked them," I said. "He said he would give me the website, so I can buy more."

"You're going to be broke if he does that."

"I know." I pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. I took off my hat and tossed it onto my bag. "I went to the bookstore after the café. Tanya was there."

Charlie paused to look over his shoulder. "Did she bother you?"

I shook my head. "No, not exactly." I felt the tacky texture of the tattoos along my scalp. "There was a guy who kept asking questions I didn't want to answer. She told him to shut-up, or she would kick him out."

His brows shot up, and he huffed in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah. He shut-up after that."

Charlie blinked and shook his head with a chuckle. He turned back to the steaks and flipped them over on his tray. "Well, I guess having some vampires around isn't always so bad."

I nodded tersely and leaned back in the chair. My finger found the seam of my pant. "Have you…interacted with them at all, Dad? In the last two weeks, I mean."

He shook his head as he grabbed the garlic powder. "Not really, no. That one from the café is there sometimes, but she hasn't ever approached me when I'm there. She keeps to the back. Other than that, I haven't seen a single one of them in town."

"Neither have I." I imagined staying out of other people's way was hard for Kate to do from my short interaction with her. She seemed rather intent to worm her way into conversation with me. My nail picked at the fabric of the seam. "It's a good sign, I guess, that they will leave us alone when we ask them, too."

"I suppose so," he agreed. "At least it's a sign they might have some character." He paused thoughtfully and grumbled. "Although, I guess one could argue the town is proof of that already."

I hummed in agreement. "The Cullens wouldn't have ever allowed themselves to be involved in a town like this. They always wanted to have the least amount of involvement possible." He looked at me over his shoulder again, and I shrugged. "Just an observation."

Charlie sighed and set the cannister on the counter. He turned to face me fully with his seasoning stained hand in the air. "You're right," he said slowly, "but what's your point, Bells? Just because they're not just like the Cullens doesn't mean they aren't like them."

"I know that," I frowned. I didn't really appreciate him feeling the need to remind me of that. "I didn't mean it that way. I just meant that they've been tolerable the last few weeks. They respected our request for space."

He shrugged. "I suppose, but that doesn't mean we're going to suddenly be all buddy-buddy with them." He started to turn back around before he paused. His head tilted just slightly in thought. "You might have a point, though—about them being tolerable, I mean. I would like to have as little animosity between us as possible." Charlie shot me a pointed look and turned back to the steaks. "For both of our benefits."

I didn't say anything, but I silently agreed. It would be nice to not be concerned about them—as Tanya had suggested in the café. Despite how much I picked fights with her, I was getting too tired to constantly argue. I would never admit it out loud, but I had actually enjoyed the civil conversation we had in the bookstore. I couldn't see the downside of having a few more of those in place of arguments.

"I still don't like them," I finally said. "I may have been too hostile, though."

"Anyone in your position would have been, Bells. You have far more reason than me to be hostile towards them." He moved to the sink as he finished seasoning and washed his hands. "Agreeing to tolerate their presence a little more doesn't mean we drop our guard, though. While I agree with Billy that they won't try anything—and we have our agreement with them on top of that—it doesn't mean they won't try to push for more."

"Bit of a habit of their kind, I think."

Charlie chuckled. "Looks that way." He dried his hands and grabbed a large piece of aluminum foil. He wrapped it over the tray and then put it in the fridge to set until dinner. He washed his hands again before he turned to me. "Don't forget we can always call the wolves."

"I know. I just don't feel like watching Jacob get his ass kicked."

"They've handled vampires before, Bella."

"Yeah, but Jake is Jake."

"…fair enough."

It was one of those days where I woke up in a bad mood. My body ached from the moment I crawled out of bed, and I had noticed the first signs of change in my face. My skin looked paler, and I could have sworn my cheekbones looked sharper than before. It could have been my imagination, truthfully, but it set my mood for the day.

Charlie read it loud and clear as soon as I came down the stairs. He set a plate of food and a mug of tea in front of me without a word, and he kept to himself the rest of the morning until he left for work. I appreciated that he gave me space, and I kept my head down as I ate what food my appetite would allow—it wasn't much.

I put the left-overs in the fridge and dragged my feet into the living room. I curled up under the heated blanket and put on the first low quality reality tv show I saw. I had no desire to watch a show that required my interest, and I was more than happy it made me shut my brain off.

I made it halfway through the episode before my phone rang. I huffed, annoyed, and glanced down at the screen. I debated answering or letting it go to voicemail before I picked it up anyway. "Hey, Leah."

"Not a good day?"

I settled further under the blanket and let the heat sink into my bones. "Not really, no." It was all I really wanted to say about the matter, and I knew Leah wouldn't push. She knew I would go to Jacob or her if I wanted to talk about it.

"That's shit. Do you want me to leave you alone?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Oh good, because I really had no intention to," she said. "I want to know how things are going with the leeches. You haven't updated us in a few days."

I shrugged, and my eyes drifted towards the two sisters fighting on the screen. One was swinging a chair around like a battleaxe. "It's been okay, I guess," I said. "I think maybe they're going to be more tolerable than I first thought."

She snorted in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"It surprised me, too."

"What changed?"

I still wasn't quite sure what had changed, but I told her the same thing as Charlie. "There was this old dude asking me a lot of stupid questions in the bookstore yesterday. He got offended when I said I didn't want to talk to him, and Tanya threatened to kick him out if he didn't leave me alone."

Leah whistled admiringly. "So, these vamps really do have a sense of decency. How refreshing."

I snorted. "Yeah." I thought for a moment and dropped my head back on the couch. "They've been more considerate about giving me space than I thought they would be," I admitted. "They appear to be serious about not giving me any issues."

I didn't need her in front of me to see her scowl. "You really think they can be trusted with that?"

"I'm not sure, but I think we can maybe coexist somewhat."

I knew by her hum she didn't quite believe me, but I appreciated that she didn't try to convince me otherwise. It probably wouldn't have taken much. "Just don't get too comfy with them, Bella. I really like my mom, and I've already had one parent be collateral damage to a leech after your ass."

"LEAH!"

"It's my dad, Bella, I can make jokes about his death to cope."

I slapped my hand over my eyes. Fucking hell. "Yeah, but that was so…dark."

"I'll admit that one might have been on the line a little bit." She didn't regret it, though, and I knew that without her having to say it. "Anyway, I'll just rely on your judgement for the whole vampire situation up there. I know Mom and Charlie have been talking about it, but he hasn't told her anything that's really made her concerned."

I sighed and dragged my hand down my face. "He's on the same page as me for the most part. I think he mainly just wants me to stop yelling at them every time I'm in town."

"He knows being a danger magnet is literally in your nature, right?"

"Yeah, I think that's why he's concerned."

"In your defense, you actually punched Paul in the face and lived to tell the tale. You have massive luck on your side when it comes to pissing off the supernatural, for some reason."

"Jacob literally tackled me to the ground on that one, though." It hadn't been long after I had found out about the wolves that I got into it with Paul. His new ability had led to his temper being more volatile at the time. He had made a snide comment about my involvement with the Cullens I hadn't appreciated. I socked him in the jaw, and he nearly took my head off. I got a sprained wrist and bruised back from the ordeal, but Paul loved that I had the guts to just deck him.

"Jacob being in range was part of your luck, Bella. "Do we really need to go over all the times you've dodged death like a motherfucker despite having zero coordination?"

I pouted. I was still a klutz, but I had learned to be a far more cautious klutz. "I've gotten better."

"Only because Charlie practically baby proofed your house."

"He removed one picture frame."

"After you almost cut your head open on it."

I grumbled and buried myself deeper into the couch. "Shut-up. I've been accident free for weeks."

"And that will be your record for the next fifty years." I scoffed but couldn't stop the small smile she pulled out of me. It vanished as she announced she had to go. "I have to go to a meeting with the others. I'll tell them you say 'hi', though."

"Yeah, thanks…bye."

"Later, Bells."

She hung up, and I tossed my phone onto the couch beside me. I turned back to the show and finished out the episode; the sisters somehow escaped getting arrested for assault despite the use of chairs. I started to feel better as the morning passed, and I knew Leah had helped to alleviate my mood—even with the incredibly dark joke about her dad.

Around eleven, I decided that it would raise my mood even more if I wasn't holed up in the house. I walked around the trails in the surrounding woods. Tom's property was decently large, and he kept the trails clear to help haul firewood for the winter. For now, they were perfect for me to waste time in.

It took about an hour to circle back to the house, and my small breakfast had worn off well before then. I debated between going to Stella's or eating at the house. Stella's eventually won when I decided I really didn't want to have to make myself something to eat.

I was happy to see the café wasn't busy when I arrived. I would have immediately regretted my decision if more than three people had been inside already.

Max was clearing a table when I walked in. "Hey, Bella! Give me just a second, and I'll meet you at the counter." He stacked the mugs on top of the plates and quickly carried it behind the counter to the back. He reappeared a second later with his signature smile. "How are you?"

I shrugged. "Not great, but I figured food would help."

"Food always helps," he smiled. He started to tap on the pad. "Do you want the usual, or are you wanting actual food instead of a chocolate filled pastry?"

"Hey! Those pastries are phenomenal!"

He laughed. "They still don't fit into your Food Pyramid. I'll tell Kate you said that, though."

My brows shot up. "Kate makes them?"

"Yep," he nodded. "She's here way before me every morning making them fresh. I honestly have no idea how she has the amount of energy she does when she gets zero sleep." He chuckled at his own joke and smiled. "So, the usual or something different?"

My brows pinched. I hadn't really pegged Kate as the type to love baking. Perhaps an arsonist, but not a baker—it seemed too normal for her. "Uh…a BLT. Usual drink." I tossed a couple of bills onto the counter and then took my usual seat in the booth.

Max brought out the food a couple of minutes later, and I was slightly surprised when he came back with a plate and mug of his own. "Kate just got in, so I'm taking my lunchbreak. Can I join you?"

I nodded immediately. "Absolutely!"

He smiled and sat down. He had a breakfast burrito of some kind on his plate. "Eggs, sausage, cheese, bell peppers, and hashbrowns rolled into a pile of goodness," he said when he saw the look on my face. He grabbed the massive thing and took a large bite. "Fillth e'ery 'art of the 'yramid."

I grimaced and swatted at him. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

He snorted but swallowed. "I didn't realize you were my mother."

"Apparently, I need to be."

He laughed and then focused on his burrito. We ate in silence for the rest of our meals. I would have been shocked with how quickly he scarfed the giant thing down if I hadn't seen the wolves eat. He washed it down with a chug of his coffee; I left half my sandwich on the plate. "So," he said as he sat down his mug, "was food the answer to the bad day?"

I smiled tightly. "A little," I admitted. "I'm not in as much of a sour mood, at least, so that's a positive."

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "What started it?"

I snorted. "I woke up."

"If I didn't have context to your life that would be a really concerning sentence." He rested his chin on his hand and tilted his head just so. "But it was just one of those mornings, then?"

"Pretty much, yeah." I pressed my lips together and crossed my arms. My back rested against the plush cushion of the booth. "I don't know. I just woke up feeling like shit, and then I caught a look of myself in the mirror, and…" I rolled my shoulder. "Just shit."

Max frowned like he knew exactly what I meant. "If it helps, you don't look any different to me than you did yesterday. I know that probably doesn't change what you saw in the mirror, though."

I sighed. "It doesn't, but I appreciate it." I really did.

Max was quiet for a moment as he studied me. I never enjoyed when people looked at me like that, but the way he looked at me wasn't the usual clinical stare. It felt like one out of genuine concern. "I still have the rest of my break if you want to talk about anything."

"Thanks."

"I'm serious." His face grew serious as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Your dad is the only person really close to you up here, but he has to be too close at times, you know? Your support system is literally thousands of miles away, and you don't have anyone to really just rant to, so…" He waved his hand in the air. "Hit me with it."

I wasn't sure where the pressure came from, but it was similar to a balloon inflating in my chest. It grew bigger and bigger until it pressed against my sternum. My jaw clenched, and my throat grew tight. My head fell into my hands. "I don't want to be the town freak."

He said nothing.

"I loved my hair as a kid, you know? I hated when it fell out and made me look so…so dead. I can't see anything but that stupid corpse in my head when I see myself now." Each word poured out of my mouth faster and faster as the pressure in my chest was released. Tears scratched the backs of my eyes. "And it sucks that I can't even do anything about it. I just have to keep shoving poison in my veins and hope for the best. I mean I'd be more than happy to just die at this point, but I know that would be unfair to Charlie and my family. They want me to put up this legendary fight for my life even though they know it's utter bullshit.

"I can barely get myself out of bed some days. My body is just so tired at the thought of even trying I just let myself lay there until I know Charlie would be worried. I hate how much I have to worry about him worrying. No one ever tells you about that side of cancer, you know. No one ever tells you about how much comforting you have to do as the dying person to everyone else around you."

"It's not fair."

"No," I snapped. "It's not fair. It's really fucking not fair. I know I can't be angry at them for being afraid of the inevitable just because I'm not, but I think I deserve the decency of not being the grief counselor for my own death."

"You do."

"And I am just so angry all the time." I placed my elbows on the table. My hands balled into fists and pressed against the sides of my head until it hurt. "I never really wanted to come up here, but I was putting up with it for my family until the fucking Denalis showed up, and they're so much like the Cu—" Kate. I changed my words. "They just push every button I have, and it feels like I haven't been able breathe since we came here. I feel like I'm about to combust at every second of the day, and I am so tired of it."

The exhale that rushed from my lungs felt like it took fifty pounds with it. My cheeks were wet, and my nose was suddenly stuffy as I sniffed. Every muscle in my body went lax as I tried to steady my breathing and pushed my hands into my eyes. I tried to wipe away the stains on my face, but it was useless as more fell.

A hand slid across the table towards me, and I took it. Max's hand was warm and comforting. He still didn't say anything, and I was grateful for his silence. I was grateful he didn't pressure me to say more. I was grateful he didn't try to say more. I was grateful he simply let me feel.

We sat for a long time in silence. My tears vanished not long after they stopped falling, and I felt the dread that had hung over my head all day slowly begin to dissipate. For the first time in months, I felt like I was able to breathe without the weight of an elephant on my chest. It felt good, and I squeezed Max's hand in thanks—his break had finished six minutes ago.

Air slowly puffed from my mouth. "I needed that," I said gratefully. "I really, really needed that."

His smile was soft. "Yeah."

I sniffed and removed my hand from his. My eyes glanced down towards the empty mug in front of me. I awkwardly cleared my throat. "Do you think I could get another?"

"Am I allowed to give it on the house?"

"Absolutely not."

He laughed and stood from the table. "Worth a shot." He grabbed the empty to replace with another. I felt the weight of my troubles disappear behind the counter with him.