Strange Days by Jandco

A Twilight Fan Fiction Story

Summary

Bella Swan is coming of age in 1967. Small town rumors and her mothers absence shape the
summer of 67 for Bella. ExB. rated M.

Chapter 1.

The summer I was eight, my mother made me a grilled cheese sandwich every morning for

breakfast, served with a half a pickle and a bag of M&M‟s and a small bottle of root beer.

Sometimes, still, I can stare at the old white gas stove against the mustard yellow backsplash and
see her there, making my breakfast— very early. Before the sun was even up, my mother would be
there, her hair swept up and pinned and falling all over wearing the ratty robe Charlie bought for

her to wear in the hospital when I was born.

I loved the summer I was eight.

Six days before my ninth birthday, my mother was standing in front of the stove in her ratty

“Bella” robe, not making my grilled cheese.

I watched the palm of her hand hover above the flame, inching lower and lower and I was
fascinated— until my father walked in smelling like Old Spice, wearing his standard blue police

officer uniform and shoving my mother away from the stove.

“Jesus, Renee, what the hell are you—“

“Feeling something, Charlie,” she said, and I still remember how she sounded— not like my mother

at all.

Her chapped lips set in a smile and she wore no mascara that morning… and for the first time I

noticed Mama looked… sad—which was silly.

Mother‟s don‟t get sad.

I stared at my empty plate and silently hated my dad— she was sad because of him.

That night I brushed my teeth next to my older brother Emmett, who was eleven at the time, and I
told him I saw Dad push Mama. I didn‟t mention the blue flame or the sad.

Emmett spit in the sink and looked at me for a few seconds.

“Maybe she needed to be pushed,” he said and tossed his toothbrush on the counter before walking

out.

The year I was eight I had cold cereal for lunch every morning.

It was that year the unthinkable happened.

My mother burned dinner.

A roast chicken.

She locked herself in the bathroom and cried and I remember my Dad awkwardly putting black
chicken, carrots and mashed potatoes on my and Emmett‟s plates— and it looked so wrong; that

wasn‟t his job.

We ate in silence, aside from the harsh sobs coming from the bathroom. My father asked me and
Emmett about school and reminded Emmett to do his homework and the sobs kept coming from

the bathroom.

Finally, my father stood up and told us to clean up dinner. I opened my mouth to whine-- I was
supposed to go down the street to Alice‟s-- Alice Brandon had just gotten purple lip gloss and

matching nail polish.

“Don‟t be a baby,” Emmett said before I even got any words out.

Emmett washed the dishes and I stood on the counter and put them away as he handed them to

me.

“She‟s crying,” I whispered to Emmett as he handed me a plate.

“No shit,” he said.

Emmett was eleven by then and trying out rebellion— I thought he was the coolest person in the

world.

“Why?” I asked, and Emmett shrugged.

“I never heard her cry before,” I said.

“You must be deaf,” Emmett said, turning back to the sink. “She locks herself in that bathroom and
cries all night long.”

“She does not,” I retorted.

“She does, too,” Emmett said, up to his knobby elbows in dishwater.

“I don‟t believe you.”

“That‟s probably good,” he shrugged.

After dinner had been cleared and the kitchen was cleaned, I walked up the stairs confused as to
what on earth my mother could possibly have to cry about… but mostly I was still longing for Alice

and her purple nail polish.

I stopped outside the bathroom door and pressed my ear to it.

I heard my dad, whispering softly— I‟d never heard my father whisper.

I heard Mama murmuring and still gasping from crying and I smelled cigarette smoke wafting from
underneath the door.

“Quit eavesdropping, idiot,” Emmett said when he walked by, math book in hand.

“I need to know if she‟s okay,” I said, much louder than I intended.

Emmett looked at me for a second and then his shoulders sagged.

“Come on. You can come into my room. I‟ll let you work my stereo,” he said.

And then I knew something must be very wrong.

I followed Emmett and he did let me work his stereo and he didn‟t even yell when I got the treble
button stuck or when I spilled an old glass of lemonade on his carpet.

I talked about Alice and how her dad was going to buy her a pink bike for her birthday and how she
had a crush on Jasper Whitlock— still.

I talked about how her older brother Tyler was too old to be an altar boy now that he was fourteen.

Emmett didn‟t listen, but he didn‟t tell me to shut up, either.

Mama didn‟t come out of that bathroom until long after I fell asleep on Emmett‟s bed— where I
would sleep fully clothed, shoes and all, for that whole year, every time I heard Mama crying in the

bathroom.

On the hot, hazy last day of school, I sat with Alice on her porch, slurping red popsicle drips from

my knuckles while trying to balance the popsicle.

“Do you think Jasper will come around this summer?”

“He lives four doors away. Probably,” I said, inspecting the tip of my popsicle where a gnat landed.

“I hope he does…Lauren Mallory told me he told Ben Cheney he thought I was cute. I‟ll bet he

wants to see my new bike.”

“Yeah, probably,” I said absently, while Alice licked her popsicle stick clean. I didn‟t understand

why Alice never shut up about Jasper Whitlock.

He went to the private school and was two grades ahead of us and I just… couldn‟t see what Alice

liked about him.

“Alice?”

“Huh?”

“Why do you like him so much?”

“He‟s… well… he‟s nice. And he has the prettiest eyes I‟ve ever seen. And he doesn‟t lift up
anyone‟s skirt at the park— he‟s a nice boy.”

Mrs. Brandon stepped out and ran a hand over the back of her neck, and it made her short dark
hair stick to the sides of her neck.

“It‟s hot out here, girls,” she said, and handed us each a tumbler of iced tea, which I couldn‟t
stand— but Alice‟s mother only let her have soda on special occasions.

Mrs. Brandon was always going on and on about nice girls and nice boys, and telling Alice what was
expected of nice young ladies.

It was no wonder Alice liked Jasper Whitlock.

“I should go… dinner and all,” I said, putting my tumbler down on the cobblestone porch.

“Okay. Come over tomorrow,” Alice said and I pushed off the steps to walk the two blocks back to

my house.

I remember running my hand along green, prickly shrubs and groaning at the prospect of meatloaf

for dinner.

I thought about Jasper Whitlock and I thought about my brother Emmett and his friend Edward

Cullen. They spit on my front porch and played baseball with no shoes on.

I wondered if Mrs. Brandon thought they were nice boys.

I flung the screen door open and called for Mama.

But she wasn‟t in our yellow kitchen.

Mrs. Clearwater was there instead, near our kitchen counter, holding two mugs of coffee.

I knew a handful of things about Mrs. Clearwater: she grew pink begonias and kept chicken wire
around them and got mad if your Frisbee landed in them; her husband Mr. Clearwater died from a
heart attack two years ago, she had a big butt and when Mama had to have her appendix out she
made us casseroles and came to cook my breakfast for that week— and she refused to make

grilled cheese for breakfast.

I didn‟t like her.

“Oh, Charlie,” she said, but she was looking at me.

My head turned to Dad, who shouldn‟t have been home from work yet.

He was sitting at the kitchen table and his uniform looked wrinkly and he looked old.

He had one hand in his pocket and in his other hand was a piece of Mama‟s expensive light blue

stationary.

“Where‟s Mama?” I asked, but a tiny part of me already knew, I think.

Mama had left.

Two weeks after Mama had left, I lay in Emmett‟s bed, wide awake, waiting.

She‟d come back.

Mama‟s can‟t just leave their kids. It‟s simply not how it‟s done.

“Quit wiggling around,” Emmett hissed at my feet.

“I can‟t.”

“Then go to your own damn bed.”

“When she comes back, I will,” I whispered…just to get some kind of reaction. I desperately
wanted to know Emmett‟s take on Mama leaving—I wanted him to tell me to not be stupid—of

course Mama would be back… because no one had said that to me yet.

No one said Mama would be back.

My chest hurt and my throat hurt and what would we do without Mama? Did Dad even know how

to make grilled cheese?

Who would wash my clothes and go to the grocery store and set my hair in big curlers and make

my Halloween costumes?

Who would be there in the mornings smiling and waiting for my hug? Or paint my toenails red? Or
smell like gardenia and who would stay up late finishing my dioramas and make my dentists
appointments?

Mama does those things.

I trembled and ached in the bed and at the foot Emmett was frozen. My feet kicked at his head but
he didn‟t move and my crying got louder and I was twisted in his plaid blue and green sheets that
Mama bought from Macy‟s.

I wanted her.

I missed her,so bad that it scared me, that it panicked me until I choked and threw up all over my

plaid-covered lap.

“Shit. Bella? Dad!” Emmett called and scrambled off the bed and out the door.

I shook and swiped at the vomit dribble on my chin. The smell of puke was warm and strong, and

it made me want to puke again.

I looked down and my tears dripped into chunks of spaghetti and bits of salad… and if Mama were
here, she‟d get me a fresh nightgown and a fresh pillow case and a fresh glass of water and make

me a bed on the couch.

But instead my dad walked in wearing his grey sweatpants and he didn‟t smell like cold cream, like

Mama does after nine o‟clock every night, with Emmett scowling behind him.

“I want Mama,” I said, defiant and sad.

Emmett held his nose and glared at me.

“She‟s not here, Bella,” my dad said kind of quietly and grainy. He pulled the sheet off of me, and

he looked kind of green and like he was grossed out.

Mama never looked like that when I was sick.

“You okay? Feeling sick?” he asked and he put his calloused hand on my forehead and shrugged.
“Why don‟t you, uh, change your pajamas—“

“I want Mama,” I said, hiccupping harshly.

“You can go sleep back in your own bed—“

“Where am I gonna sleep?” Emmett huffed.

“I want Mama,” I said, louder this time, because where was she?

“Emmett, take these sheets off the bed, Bella go to your own bed—“

“There‟s puke in her hair,” Emmett pointed, disgusted.

“I. Want. Mama.”

“Hell,” Dad mumbled, and used a clean part of sheet to swipe at my hair.

“She‟s gonna stink,” Emmett said.

“I want Mama.”

“I know Bella—“

“I want Mama,” I shrieked out loud and fierce.

“Okay, Bella, let‟s get this cleaned up and—“

“I want Mama!”

“Me too!” Dad shouted back in my face loud and low then he dropped the sheet and I froze.

He stood straight up and rubbed his hands over his face, over his scratchy jaw.

Emmett stepped between Dad and the bed and pulled the sheets off of me slowly. I got up with

shaky legs and went down the dim hall to the bathroom, all alone and smelling like sour throw up.

I got in the shower and combed my hair, from the ends up, just like Mama had taught me.

I walked back to my room, stepping over the pile of sheets Emmett had left in the hallway and my

Dad was at my door.

He looked saggy, leaning, like my door was the only thing in the world that could hold him up.

“Bells. I‟m sorry, I shouldn‟t have yelled like that… it‟s..” he went on absently, rubbing the back of
his neck roughly. “Look, kiddo… we‟re all gonna be just fine… we just, we‟ll have to work

together…”

“You should have been nicer to Mama,” I whispered, reaching for my doorknob.

Because maybe if we would have “worked together” before, she‟d be here.

Maybe he should understand.

My dad stared straight ahead and blinked once before I slipped into my room.

I woke up the next morning after Dad had already left for work and Mrs. Clearwater was in the

kitchen, making not grilled cheese.

I went to Alice‟s house, where there was still a mother and clean sheets and nothing had changed.

Or so I thought.

I sat on Alice‟s pink bed and flipped through her mother‟s old Woman’s Day magazines, finding tips

on the perfect at-home manicure and how to spice up your date night.

Alice sat at her purple and white vanity and smeared sparkly lip gloss all over her lips.

“Do you think Jasper will kiss me this summer?”

“Sure,” I shrugged, already bored with this topic.

“When I get boobs, he‟ll kiss me for sure,” Alice said, sticking her chest out and puckering her lips.

“Good luck,” I mumbled.

“I heard Embry Call thinks you‟re cute,” Alice said.

“Gross.”

“Well. You should maybe just see if you like him. I mean, your crush on Edward Cullen is—“

“I do not have a crush on Edward Cullen,” I said, and my face burned and I was suddenly angry for

no reason.

“Yes, you do. You get all red whenever he‟s around… but Bella. My mom says he probably isn‟t a

nice boy. He smokes cigarettes and everyone knows how he is with girls and stuff—“

“He isn‟t like that. He‟s always with Emmett, and all they do is play baseball and—“

“Okay,” Alice said quietly.

She gave up way too easily.

“What‟s your problem, Alice?”

Alice pursed her lips then sighed.

“My mother said not to upset you… because your mom left and things must be hard for you right

now.”

“My Mama is coming back.”

Alice didn‟t say anything.

“She is, Alice. You and your mom don‟t know anything,” I said, and got up and walked out.

That evening I stood at the edge of our lawn, pretending to be the catcher while Edward pitched

the ball to Emmett, who had run inside for something to drink.

Edward tossed the ball in the air and caught it and I stared at his back and willed him to say

something to me.

“Sucks about your mom,” he finally said at the same moment he tossed the ball high above his

head.

“Yeah,” I said when he caught it in his mitt. “But… she‟s coming back.”

“Oh,” Edward said, and he took the mitt off and shook out his hand.

“Or maybe not,” I whispered, for the first time, out loud.

“Yeah, well…either way, it sucks,” he said, and then he looked over his shoulder at me and

shrugged.

“Why would she leave? Is she a bad mother?” I asked.

Because those questions had been on my mind lately, and for whatever reason, Edward was the

only one I felt like asking.

“Nah. I dunno. Maybe she had reasons. People usually do,” he said.

“What reasons?”

“Shoot… I don‟t know.”

“Should I hate her?” I whispered.

“If I were you…” Edward said, putting the mitt back on his hand, “I‟d try very hard not to.”

“Edward?”

“Huh?”

“I don‟t think she‟s ever coming back.”

Chapter 2.

The June I turned sixteen, the only things I was sure of were the heat, Edward Cullen, Jim Morrison

and the heat.

“They found that little boy behind Crowley‟s farm. Say he was naked.”

“Bella Swan! Don‟t say that!” Alice said and plunked her Coca-Cola bottle down on her plastic pink

and white vanity and resumed frosting her lips.

“It‟s true. Not a lick of clothing on that kid—“

Alice clapped her hands over her ears and ducked her helmet of hair until her chin hit her chest.

“That‟s not true,” she said. “We prayed for him in church last Sunday and Mama says that—“

“Your mama also says only prostitutes wear red and babies come from marriage,” I said flatly.

“Just don‟t talk about it. It creeps me out,” Alice said, pursing her lips at her own reflection.

“He ran away is all, Alice. Nobody would have snatched him up if he wasn‟t up to no good.”

“But still. Poor kid.”

“Yeah.”

I got up from Alice‟s pink bed and pulled aside her pink and white gingham curtains to look down
and out of the window, and I could actually see the haze of heat on the green and brown grass

below.

“Jasper down there?” Alice asked.

“No, Alice, your virtue is safe,” I sighed.

“Hardly. I had to go to confession on Wednesday and Thursday this week.”

“Heavens Alice,” I mocked. “What would your mama say?”

“Probably that I should wear red,” Alice giggled and started to work on her eye shadow.

“Your mother represses you,” I said.

“Nah, she just gets a little worried is all. That‟s normal stuff for mothers to do—s orry.”

I leaned my forehead against the warm glass and tapped my finger on the pane.

“It‟s okay, Alice. Charlie does just fine.”

“I know that. But still. Nothing like having your mother around—“

“Well. Renee wasn‟t exactly baking cookies and hosting bridge parties like your Mama.”

Renee was busy crying in the bathroom and drinking cooking sherry and sometimes mouthwash—

when Charlie emptied everything else down the kitchen sink.

“Yeah, well, if it makes you feel any better, my mother would love to mother you,” Alice said.

I groaned and snapped my gum.

Mrs. Brandon came to my house with a plastic belt and a box of Kotex two years ago when I told
Alice I started my period. She insisted on taking me bra shopping three days later, and when I
refused, Charlie gratefully handed her a wad of cash and she came back two hours later with four

white cotton bras— which was disappointing as I‟d fancied myself a black lace kind of girl.

Mama would have bought me black lace.

And then there was the time six months ago when Mrs. Brandon called Charlie to report she‟d seen
me in Edward Cullen‟s car. The same day she brought over a tuna casserole and told me that boys
spread seed but can‟t be blamed for it and it was my duty as a good girl to see that the seed didn‟t

spread to me until I‟d been married in a church.

My older brother Emmett was decidedly insulted by that.

“You seein‟ Edward tonight?” Alice asked, and she didn‟t even look at me.

She picked her cuticle instead.

“Yeah. I think.”

I hope.

“Oh, well… maybe Jasper and I will see you out or something. If you two ever come up for air,

anyway.”

“I‟ll wear red,” I smiled, and carefully slid Strange Days back into the album sleeve.

“Hey, Bella?”

“Huh?”

“Jasper says if I take an aspirin before, you know, that I won‟t get pregnant. Do you think he‟s

right?”

I laughed and walked out of Alice‟s pink and white room.

Tyler Brandon, Alice‟s older brother, was standing in the driveway, wiping his motorcycle down with

an old diaper in one hand.

He got the motorcycle when he came home from the war last year; it was a gift from Mr. and Mrs.

Brandon. They bought it months before he came home, to surprise him.

The surprise was on them, though, because Tyler came home with only one arm.

He used to light fireworks on the Fourth of July, right in the middle of the street every year since I
could remember; sometimes he‟d take us to Newton‟s Scoop in the Brandon station wagon and buy
me and Alice sundaes. He used to help all the families down the street bring in their Christmas

trees and shovel snow for Sue Clearwater.

But Tyler doesn‟t do much of anything anymore.

Alice told me her dad and Tyler got into a fight about alcohol a few weeks back, and eventually

Mrs. Brandon started to cry so they stopped fighting.

But Tyler doesn‟t even bother to hide his bottles under the couch anymore.

I suppose no one can really blame him.

I flung the screen door open and like always, it was too loose. Charlie told Emmett to fix it weeks

ago, but he didn‟t and Charlie didn‟t notice.

Then again, Charlie doesn‟t notice much anymore.

Edward and Emmett were hovering around the open fridge.

“No dinner?” I asked, kicking off my flip flops.

“Oh, the duck is roasting,” Emmett said, then slammed the avocado door shut. I sneered at him,

even though I knew there wouldn‟t be dinner.

Charlie used to pay Sue Clearwater to cook for us three days a week. Fridays weren‟t one of the

three days.

The suspicious part was- Charlie stopped paying Sue months ago but she kept making the food— I

wasn‟t fond of the whole situation.

“Make a sandwich,” Emmett said, and tossed a half loaf of bread on the counter.

“I‟m tired of sandwiches.”

“Quit crying or make a damn sandwich,” Emmett said, and the piece of Wonder Bread practically fit

in his palm.

Without a word, Edward took out four slices of bread and laid them on the counter while Emmett

clumsily slapped baloney on his own bread.

I stared at the dirt under Edward‟s fingernails and contemplated how it looked against the white

bread. I wondered if that‟s what his hands looked like when they were on me.

I wouldn‟t know.

Edward only touched me in the dark when no one could see.

“Does your mom make dinner?” I asked Edward.

“Sure,” he said, not looking up from the bread.

Emmett rolled his eyes and put the mayonnaise away.

“Does she make like, meatloaf and pot roast and stuff?” I asked.

“Sometimes,” Edward said, and his head sort of tipped up and so did the corner of his mouth and I

smiled back at him.

Emmett crushed the slices of his bread together and took a huge bite.

The slices of bread on the sandwiches Edward made were perfectly lined up. He probably learned

that from his mother.

Once, when I was very young, Mama and I saw Mrs. Cullen at Macy‟s department store. She had

shiny hair and clear, shiny lips and a simple diamond necklace on.

Mama called Mrs. Cullen classy, and I agreed.

Edward slid a sandwich across the counter to me and picked his own up.

“Thanks,” I said, and he just kind of nodded and didn‟t move the hair from his eyes to see me.

“Come on, let‟s go see what Hale and Stanley are up to,” Emmett said to Edward.

My smile dropped and Edward walked out the door with Emmett and his sandwich.

Alice thinks Edward uses me.

And maybe he does.

But the truth is, since I was twelve, all I wanted was for Edward Cullen, my brother‟s best friend,

to use me.

So, one night when I was fourteen and he was sixteen, he kissed me on the front porch when we

were waiting for Emmett to come home. And I let him.

And I kept letting him.

And then I let him do other things, too, and I did things back to him.

Anyway, now I wasn‟t sure if he was using me or if I was using him or if we weren‟t using at all.

Do you use people you love?

Probably not.

But still, I wondered what Mrs. Brandon would say about all that.

I wondered what she would say about all those times I snuck downstairs at midnight to answer the

phone at half a ring so no one would hear it when he called.

I wondered what she would say about boys with dirty fingernails and how she could possibly say

the things he does with those fingers is a sin.

Because he can do things with those fingers.

I wonder what Mrs. Brandon would say about all the things me and Edward do when he tells me he

wants us to be alone.

Edward thinks Emmett would go batshit crazy if he knew. Edward says Emmett wouldn‟t

understand and he doesn‟t really even understand… and maybe he‟s right.

But Emmett should understand.

Lauren Mallory says Jessica Stanley and Rosalie Hale have sex behind Call‟s Whole Foods.

I wouldn‟t know if they do or if they don‟t, but sometimes I see Rosalie Hale walk into Emmett‟s
room with red lipstick on and walk out with no lipstick on.

And once I saw her tits when I walked into Emmett‟s room without knocking.

They were big and round with very pale pink nipples— they looked like big pink quarters and I

stared until Emmett threw a book at the door and told me to get out.

Rosalie Hale doesn‟t say much of anything to me when I see her in school or at my house. She
smells like cigarettes and Love‟s Baby Soft and she always looks like she‟s staring at something

very far away.

The only time I actually hear her speak, it‟s through the walls in my house.

She laughs and sometimes tells Emmett to stop it, but then she always says it‟s okay.

Edward and I don‟t laugh like that when he comes through my window. I don‟t know why, but we

just don‟t.

Two nights ago, he came in through my window and bought two pieces of cherry pie his mother

made and he kissed me.

He must‟ve known everyone else forgot.

It was my sixteenth birthday.

Chapter 3.

“Do you do things with Jessica Stanley? Behind Call‟s Whole Foods?” I asked Edward, while I poked

the watery remnants of my red slush with a blue straw.

I leaned back in his car and worked the straw in and out of the lid, so it made an awful squeaky

noise.

“God, Bella.”

“Well. Do you?”

Edward reached forward and turned the radio up then used the back of his hand to rub at his
scratchy jaw for a second before he responded.

“I don‟t want to talk about Jessica Stanley,” he mumbled.

“Okay. Mike Newton asked me for the movies this weekend,” I said, because Edward should care

about this and maybe because I‟d feel a lot better if he got jealous.

“You going?”

I worked the straw faster, until it was almost louder than the radio.

“Not if you don‟t want me to,” I said then waited for him to tell me he doesn‟t want me to.

“You can go to a damn movie, Bella. You should go on a…date…or whatever.”

“He‟ll ask me for a blowjob. He asks everyone he takes to the movies for a blowjob.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Don‟t you care?”

Edward tossed his cigarette out of his open window then spit in the same direction.

“Let‟s take you home,” he said without even answering me at all.

He used one finger to turn the steering wheel and I slid the straw in the lid slowly, so it whined

long and loud.

Edward slammed one hand on the cup, over my hand and I jumped.

“You‟re driving me crazy,” he snapped. “Just…stop it.”

“Sorry,” I said, and turned my head to the left so he wouldn‟t see my chin trembling.

“You make me crazy,” he mumbled again and we drove in silence until we were parked four houses

down from my house, so no one would see me get out of his car.

I reached for the handle on the car door, but before I got out, I looked over my shoulder.

“Just so you know, Edward Cullen, sometime you make me crazy, too.”

He kind of shook his head and I could I saw his shoulders kind of shake with slow, silent laughter,

but I didn‟t see what was so funny.

That night I heard Rosalie Hale‟s laugh coming from Emmett‟s room and imagined her red lipstick
smeared on her chin and wondered when I would be alone with Edward again.

The next morning I was at Alice‟s house, sharing the tiny bench at her vanity while we both
contemplated our pores in the mirror.

Tyler was still in the driveway, still buffing a motorcycle he‟d never have the chance to ride and
Mrs. Brandon was in the kitchen working on her Sunday School lesson plan for the next morning.

Janis Joplin was screaming softly from Alice‟s record player—we weren‟t supposed to listen to „rock
and roll‟ in the Brandon house, so Alice hid most of her records in sleeves that had Connie Francis
on the front.

“It doesn‟t count if it‟s just the very tip, does it? Like, if it‟s just the part right before that big ridge,
right?” Alice asked, leaning back away from the mirror.

“Alice. You better run to confession,” I laughed.

Alice clapped a hand over her mouth and giggled until her face turned bright red and her shoulders

raised up to her ears.

“He said he loves me,” she smiled, and she looked…thrilled.

“He did?” I asked, because…he did?

Alice nodded and wrapped her arms around her waist and smiled so hard I could see even her

teeth in the back of her mouth.

“I‟m in love,” she declared. “Me and Jasper are in love.”

“Wow,” was all I could say.

Because what do you say when the boy you love isn‟t put off by blow jobs and movies and doesn‟t
make you laugh late at night in your bedroom.

“Look,” Alice said, and slid out the bottom drawer to her vanity. She rummaged underneath all of
the lace handkerchiefs her grandmother made for her and produced a gaudy, gold ring with a

sickeningly sweet pink gem stone on it.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Pink ice. Jasper gave it to me last night. When he told me he loves me. It‟s a promise ring…it
means we‟ll be married one day. Probably right after I graduate from school. I want to buy one of
those sweet little houses in Pine Grove and Jasper says we can.”

“Alice…that‟s…wow. Are you sure, I mean…”

Mrs. Brandon still picked the pulp out of Alice‟s orange juice and made her dentist appointments.

“Of course I‟m sure. You only get one true love, Bella. And Jasper is mine.”

“Did you declare all of this before or after he put it in up to the ridge?” I grinned.

Alice started in a fit of giggles and slid the pink ice on her finger, then held it up over our heads.

It was…well.

It was ugly.

But Alice looked at it like it was the crown jewels or like it held all of her happiness right there, in

that cloudy pink stone.

Edward would never pick out a pink ice ring.

Two nights later I was in Edwards car, parked by the old train tracks just outside of Forks. No one

ever comes here, so I guess that‟s why we do.

“Jasper Whitlock told Alice Brandon he loves her,” I said to Edward.

He exhaled cigarette smoke out of his nose in jerky spurts then laughed loud and hard.

He used the back of the hand holding his half burned cigarette to press into his eyes, but still he

laughed.

“That‟s funny?” I asked.

“That,” he said, “is hysterical.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, you just tell little Alice to take care of herself.”

“She doesn‟t have to. Jasper does,” I spat back, suddenly angry at Edward and jealous of Alice.

“Bella…what…never mind,” he sighed, then he revved the engine and we pulled out and on to the

main road, and he hadn‟t even kissed me yet.

When he pulled up four doors down from my house I got out and slammed the door and his tires

squealed when he pulled away too fast.

Neither of us had actually said words, so was this a fight?

Because both of us knew what I‟d been trying to get at, and he didn‟t give an inch, just like he
never does.

I tiptoed into the kitchen, but that was unnecessary because Emmett and Rosalie Hale were there,
staring at me.

“Where the hell have you been?” Emmett asked.

When we were younger, Emmett let me sleep in his bed, after Mama left. He would sleep on the
floor and never say anything about it, but sometimes if I went in his room and he was already
asleep, I‟d crawl in right next to him. He used to pour me cereal in the mornings and make sure
Charlie got Ivory soap for me at the grocery store, because it‟s the only kind that doesn‟t make my

skin itch.

And he looked at me now the way he used to when he worried I didn‟t eat my apple at lunch or

had nightmares about Mama.

“I was with Alice,” I lied.

“Bullshit. Alice Brandon has to be in by ten.”

“Well, I was—“

“Was that Cullen‟s car?”

Rosalie Hale stared at me with nothing on her face and I suddenly wanted to ask her what pink ice
means and if she really goes all the way behind Call‟s Whole Foods and if her best friend Jessica
Stanley really goes behind there with Edward Cullen.

“No. It wasn‟t Edward,” I said, because if he knew it was Edward he‟d ask questions and there was
just nothing to tell. If he knew it was Edward he‟d be mad at Edward and there‟s no real reason for

Emmett to be mad at Edward.

Emmett squinted one eye and cocked his head and looked at me for a second before he figured out
I was a liar.

Then he left Rosalie‟s side and walked past me and out the front door.

“Emmett—“ I started, but he was out the door.

Rosalie Hale started for the door, to follow him, but the she kind of paused and looked over her

shoulder at me.

“Hey. It‟s okay,” she said, then she walked out, too, and I don‟t know how she knew, but I really

needed to hear that just then.

Sometimes, I think, everyone just needs to hear that.

Chapter 4.

Alice and I lay side by side on yellow towels in her back yard. She was working on her tan and I
was working on not getting a sunburn. It was only June and already I noticed a few new freckles
on the bridge of my nose and I spent fifteen minutes in front of the bathroom mirror the other

night peeling off bits of skin from my red nose.

“So, listen, if I tell you something, promise you won‟t repeat it,” Alice said, turning her head

toward me and shielding the sun with her pink iced hand.

“Promise,” I said, not really too interested. I closed my eyes again and waited for the freezing

spray from the sprinkler arcing on the lawn to hit my toes.

Alice always had lame gossip. Last week she told me Mrs. Black, the public librarian was pilfering
change from the overdue fine fund. When Alice told me, her eyes got all wide like it was a huge
scandal. Though for Forks, I guess it was. Charlie had to go to her house to get the money back
but she cried and said she‟d spent it all on a chuck roast. The city dropped charges.

“Okay. Jessica Stanley is in a hospital in Texas,” Alice blurted out, like this news was just busting
her up inside.

“Why?” I asked, half sitting up.

“You‟ll never believe this.”

“Get on with it,” I sighed when Alice made the sign of the cross, marking her forehead, chest and

shoulders quickly with her fingertips.

“She has a horrible infection.”

“That‟s not so bad.”

“She had a…procedure. Like, a botched one. You know. They say she got tetanus from a rusty knife

or something.”

“What? Like an abor—“

“Shhh. Don‟t say that word!”

“A rusty knife? Come on, Alice, that cannot possibly be true,” I said, laying back down.

“It is,” Alice insisted. “Our prayer group prayed for her and everything. Her parents sent her to

Texas and she won‟t be back. You‟ll see.”

“Well,” I said, still skeptical, “we‟ll see.”

“Hey, Bella?”

“What?”

“They say it was Edward,” Alice whispered.

“They say what was Edward?”

“You know…the boy. Who got Jessica Stanley in all that trouble. I just thought you should know—“

“That…is not true. You‟re lying. You‟re lying because you don‟t like Edward.”

I sat straight up and Alice propped herself up on her elbows.

“I am not! I was just trying to be a good friend, you should know what kind of boy he is—my

mother says—“

“You‟re such a liar! He wouldn‟t ever—“

“Everyone knows what he‟s like, Bella. Everyone knows what he does with girls and just last week
Mrs. Call saw Edward and your brother leaving a bar in Port Angeles. One that has marijuana and—

“

“You‟re so stupid, Alice. You believe anything that anyone tells you. Let me tell you something
that‟s the truth. None of those people know Edward. Not like I do. So, just…be quiet,” I ranted, but

ended quietly.

Because while it was true I knew Edward, in and out in a way no one else did—there was a lot I
didn‟t know. Like what him and Emmett did when they disappeared in Edward‟s Challenger or what
he did after he hung up the phone with me or dropped me off four houses down from my house by

ten o‟clock on those nights we spent in the backseat of his car.

“I‟m sorry, Bella,” Alice said quietly. “I was just trying to help.”

“Well. Don‟t say things like that.”

I lay back down and squeezed my eyes shut against the light and the impossible revelations I

didn‟t want to know.

“So,” Alice said timidly, “I went to Harper‟s and bought Flowers, that Rolling Stones album, with all
of the good songs on it? And then I had to buy Just For You by Neil Diamond, so I had a cover to
hide the Stones album in. You know what my mother says about Mick Jagger. Anyway, Jasper paid
for all of it, so…”

“So. I think I‟m going to go to the movies with Mike Newton tonight. He asked me,” I said, and
even as I was saying it, I didn‟t want it.

“Oh, Bella!” Alice squealed and clapped her hands, “he‟s really cute! And I wouldn‟t worry about
the whole…you know…blow job thing. He goes to my church and he‟s a really, really nice boy and—
“

“It‟s just a movie,” I mumbled, because it was just a movie. If Edward…if he does things behind
Calls Whole Foods or if he…it was just a movie, and Edward didn‟t do any of those things Alice said.

But still, when I left the Brandon‟s yard and yanked my t-shirt over my bathing suit I was still only
hoping to God that Alice was a liar.

Mike Newton‟s car had cloth upholstery.

Edward‟s was leather.

The difference doesn‟t seem like it should be so huge, but it was. Mike smelled like his father‟s

cologne, sugar cones and Wrigley‟s gum.

Edward smelled like beer and cigarettes and I missed him, hard right then, when I was sitting in

Mike‟s car, and even harder when Mike‟s hands rubbed the front of my dress.

“Wait, Mike…”

“No,” he groaned, “no more waiting, Bella.”

His skin made my neck itch when he pressed against me and the smell of pine air freshener mixed
with the heat made me feel sick.

“No,” I said, when his lips went still on my neck. “I don‟t do this.”

“Sure you do,” he said, and his hand slid up the skirt of my dress.

“No, I don‟t,” I said, and I grabbed his hand with mine over my dress.

Mike yanked his hand out and sat up.

“You let Edward Cullen do it to you,” he said.

I sat up and my arm flung out and I smacked him in the ear, hard.

He swore at me and I straightened my skirt.

“I don‟t do anything with Edward Cullen,” I said, probably because I was just so used to saying it.

“Cheney saw you two by the railroad tracks a few weeks ago. I know what you do. Everyone knows

what you do.”

“I…am not like that.”

“Beat feet, Princess,” Mike said, and started the car.

“What?”

“Get out. Because you sure ain‟t putting out,” he said.

“Screw off,” I mumbled, and pushed open the passenger door.

He sped off and I kicked my shoes off and walked on the cool cement all the way to the penny

candy store seven blocks over.

I bought two strings of licorice and a bottle of Coke and still had a dime for the payphone.

I planned to call Emmett for a ride.

I was going to call Emmett.

I dialed the Edward‟s house.

“Cullen residence.”

Mrs. Esme Cullen answered on the third ring. Her voice was warm and polite and I wondered if she

always answered like that.

“Hi. Um. This is Bella Swan…”

“Can I help you, dear?”

“Oh. Yeah, is Edward there?”

“He is. Hang on one moment.”

I strained to listen and heard whispering and shuffling. I pictured Esme in a fancy white kitchen
making cocoa or tea and reading The Ladies Home Journal.

“Yeah.”

“Edward. It‟s Bella.”

“Yeah.”

“Um. I went out with Mike.”

There was a few seconds of silence, until I could hear Edward‟s breathing get heavier on the

phone.

“He…uh…kicked me out of his car. Because I wouldn‟t, or whatever.”

“Where are you?”

“O‟Hare‟s Penny Candy.”

“Just…don‟t move,” he sighed.

He sounded very tired.

He sounded very reluctant.

Then the line went dead.

I hung up the phone to wait and sat on the curb to chew my licorice and think about Edward and

Jessica Stanley.

It couldn‟t be true. I couldn‟t think of a single reason why it couldn‟t be true other than…it just

couldn‟t.

Edward‟s Challenger pulled up and I got in, because whatever did or didn‟t happen with Jessica

Stanley, Edward was always, always decent to me.

I just had to figure out if the rest mattered or not.

Without looking at me or saying a word, Edward took off fast as soon as I slammed the car door

shut.

“Thank you,” I said.

He said nothing.

“Thank you,” I said again louder.

“What else was I gonna do?” he shrugged back, still not looking at me.

At that point I decided not to push my luck and sang along with the radio, instead.

“Wouldn‟t it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn‟t have to wait so loooong,” I belted but

Edward slammed his hand on the radio, shutting both me and the Beach Boys up.

“What‟s your itch?” I asked.

I wanted him to tell me.

Tell me about Jessica Stanley and tell me it isn‟t true—because it couldn‟t be true—because if he

could do something like that…I couldn‟t possibly still love him the way I do.

Instead he lit a cigarette and drove with one knee.

“Say something,” I said, and leaned over to poke him in the side.

He turned to look at me and smiled, but not in an exactly friendly way.

The dim lights from the dashboard lit his face and I let out a short squeak.

Edward‟s left eye was swollen shut and purple, with a gross yellow spreading half way down his
cheek.

“What happened?”

“I screw Emmett McCarty‟s sister. I‟m a perverted bastard. Didn‟t you know?” he said flatly, and

put his focus back on the road.

“He…Emmett didn‟t—“

“Oh. I assure you. He sure as shit did.”

“But…we haven‟t even done that.”

“No shit.”

“Edward. I‟m…I‟m so sorry, I didn‟t think that—“

“What did you think?” he asked, cutting me off, and I don‟t think I‟ve ever heard Edward sound so

angry.

“I‟m just…sorry,” I mumbled.

“Yeah. Well. Me too. I‟m not…angry at you. I just…I never should have touched you in the first

place-“

“Don‟t say that—“

“What the hell do you want me to say? I mean, you‟re a kid—“

“No, I‟m not.”

“Or you were…and you‟re Emmett‟s kid sister. He was like…that kid was like my brother or some
shit and I just—hell.”

“Stop saying that! You did not. I‟m not a kid. You of all people should know that—“

“Oh god. Just shut up now.”

“You didn‟t say I was a kid two weeks ago when I put my mouth on your—“

Edward groaned and rolled his shoulders back.

“Emmett is right—“

“Emmett doesn‟t know shit, Edward. He doesn‟t!—“

“Bella. Please. Just…don‟t talk anymore right now. You…you‟re driving me fucking mad here, okay?

Just. Be quiet for a little while.”

“Let‟s be alone for a little while,” I whispered, because that‟s what he says…when he wants us to

do things.

“We are alone,” he said.

“Let‟s be alone,” I said.

Edward‟s fingers touched his swollen eye for a split second and his shoulders stiffened.

“Take me somewhere away. Take us both away. Just for a little while, and we can just pretend

that…it‟s just us.”

Because if he did that, then we could both pretend everything was how it should be and I could
forget about Emmett and Jessica Stanley and that dead boy in the creek and Tyler Brandon‟s

missing arm—and it would be just the two of us.

That‟s why people go away, isn‟t it?

To forget?

“Bella.”

“Where do you think my Mama left to?” I blurted out.

And I didn‟t even see it coming.

But Edward knew everything, and when he didn‟t, he was pretty good at bullshitting. And suddenly,
I just really, really needed to know where she was, so I asked him. I always went to Edward for

things like that.

He took a long drag from his cigarette, and pulled the car on the shoulder of the road, but he didn‟t

seemed surprised at all by my question.

I wanted to know what Mama would say about all of this. She missed so much and she didn‟t even
know it. The last time Mama saw Tyler Brandon he had two arms and there were no rotting bodies
in the creek and Edward came over to play baseball with Emmett, who was seven inches shorter
then, and the last time she saw me I didn‟t like mushrooms in spaghetti, but now I do, and she

doesn‟t even know that about me.

“God, Bella. I don‟t…where ever she left to, she‟s missing out on a hell of a lot, and that‟s all I

really know.”

“I think so, too,” I whispered.

“I‟ll take you home.”

“You know,” I went on, “Emmett fucks Rosalie in his bedroom and last year he stopped driving me
to school. Charlie hasn‟t actually looked me in the eye since…I think since two nights after Mama
left and I told him I thought it was his fault. Some little kid was dead in a creek and Charlie and
the whole police department can‟t find the guy who did it because Charlie isn‟t good at chasing
anyone, Jasper Whitlock loves Alice and Mike Newton kicked me out of his car because I wouldn‟t
give him a blowjob and everything, everything is wrong.”

“Shit, Bella. Don‟t cry.”

“You come in through my window and make me sandwiches and you‟re the only one who actually
looks at me and knows me, but no one else knows that and it‟s horrible…so please. Be alone with
me Edward. It‟s the only thing that‟s still okay.”

Edward made a deep noise and slowly turned his head to me, all black and blue for me.

“I‟m not some kind of savior, Bella. Not yours.”

Of course he was, but I didn‟t tell him that.

“Please? Please. Please, Edward.”

His chin ticked to the side and he bit the corner of his lip.

“Lay down.”

I lay back on the seat, ready for him to take me somewhere new and good and his hand went up

my skirt.

Edward‟s eyes closed, but I kept mine open. I wanted to watch, I wanted to see the things he could

do to me and I wanted to watch him take me to the place where it was just us.

“I‟m going to burn in hell,” he muttered and his warm hand went between my thighs.

“Tyler Brandon says The Doors are going to change the whole world,” I said, because he shouldn‟t

be thinking this is wrong or bad, this was the only thing that was good.

“Tyler Brandon is batshit crazy,” Edward muttered.

“Maybe.”

My skirt flipped up over my stomach and Edward put his hands under my butt and lifted up. He

leaned down and I spread my legs further apart, because I liked this part.

Edward had done this two other times to me and every time he did, he made these noises that

made me feel like I was as sexy as the blonde girl in those Prell shampoo commercials.

He shifted my underwear to the side and I felt his mouth then. My head hit the window and he
pushed his tongue inside of me, then outside, but further up, in this spot that made my elbows go

tense and my legs go weak.

I melted into the seat and one leg slipped off the seat and my foot hit the floor of the car.

Edward put his finger inside of me and kept his mouth there, too and I made an embarrassing
noise. His hand grabbed my knee and I put my hand on the top of his head. Then I felt two more

fingers slide inside of me and shut my legs around his head.

"Ow!"

Edward jerked free and sat up to look at me. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You're not ready."

"I am, I am--"

"No, you're not. You're crying about three fingers."

"It supposed to hurt the first time. That has nothing to do with being ready. I read in Charlie's
Hustler magazine about this virgin who hurt really bad but then it felt really good, after like, two
minutes."

Edward stared at me for three seconds before he started to laugh.

"You've got a lot to learn," he said.

"Teach me."

"Hell."

I sat up and pulled my skirt down.

"Isn't this what you do?" I asked.

Edward let his head flop on the headrest and put his finger to his eye again.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"You take Jessica Stanley behind the Call‟s Whole Foods. Everyone knows what happened to her."

“What the hell do you know about Jessica Stanley?”

“I know she‟s sick something awful…I know what she did…and I know it was yours.”

Edward stared hard at me with one green eye and one swollen, purple eye for a very long time.

“You don‟t know shit,” he finally said.

“They‟re praying for you at Alice Brandon‟s church. Alice thinks what the two of you did is—“

“Shut up, Bella. You have no idea what you‟re talking about.”

I straightened myself up, then looked out the passenger side window, so he couldn‟t see me—but

he wasn‟t looking at me at all anyway.

“Why did you do that?” I whispered.

“You shouldn‟t believe everything you hear.”

“Do you even care? About Jessica Stanley? They say she‟s really sick.”

“‟They say, they say‟—you don‟t know anything for yourself, Bella. This whole damn town has
opinions and prayers for shit they have no idea about…I‟m not gonna sit here and talk to you about

this.”

“It could have been me,” I said.

“It could never, ever have been you,” he replied, suddenly sharp.

“Why? Because you won‟t do that with me?”

He fumbled for a cigarette and let it dangle in his lips while he started the car engine.

“I wish you wouldn‟t have done that with Jessica Stanley,” I said.

Edward shook his head and my eyes burned for Jessica Stanley and what she did and for Edward

but mostly for myself…because I should‟ve hated him, but I just couldn’t.

“I hope you don‟t care about her,” I said, in what might have been the most honest, awful thing

I‟ve ever admitted to anyone.

Edward said nothing and we sped away, very quiet, and very far apart from each other.

Chapter 5.

Edward didn‟t speak again until we pulled up to my house…and we actually pulled up at my

house—not four houses down.

Then he proceeded to shock the hell out of me when he opened his door to get out.

“What the heck are you doing?” I asked.

He slammed the door and I quickly flung my own door open, and jumped out of the car, but still,

Edward beat me to the front porch.

Before either of us could climb on to the stoop, the screen door flung open and Emmett came out
and pointed his finger right in Edward‟s face.

Edward didn‟t step back or even flinch, even though Emmett practically towered above him.

“You sick sonofabitch,” Emmett said and Edward jerked his chin up and glared at Emmett and I just

stood there, watching them.

“Your kid sister called me for a ride. Newton kicked her out of his car because she…wouldn‟t. You
oughta stop rubbing up on Hale and start looking out for your sister,” Edward said and used the
back of his hand to shove Emmett‟s finger out of his face.

“You been looking out for her? That‟s what you call it?”

“She needs someone, Emmett,” Edward said, like I wasn‟t even there at all.

“Did you call Cullen for a ride home?” Emmett asked me.

“He‟s always there,” I said simply.

“It‟s not the first time, either,” Edward said then turned to go.

Emmett and I both watched Edward get back into his car and listened to the tires squeal when he
took off.

“You have a problem with a guy, you come to me,” Emmett said.

“I took care of it myself. I‟m not a damn baby.”

“Oh? But you‟re Edward‟s baby?” Emmett seethed.

“He‟s good to me,” I said.

“He better fucking not be,” Emmett said, then walked inside the house.

I stormed in after him and yanked the back of his shirt.

“What Edward and I do is none of your damn business!” I yelled and yanked hard on his shirt.

“Way wrong thing to say, Bella,” Emmett said, and turned to face me.

“I know what you do with Rosalie Hale. Why is it any different for me and Edward?”

“Because it is.”

“You‟re being stupid, Emmett.”

“You have no idea about Edward Cullen and what he‟s after.”

“Last week he was your best friend! Is that all you’re after from Rosalie Hale?”

“Bella. You have no idea about guys and—“

“You‟re talking about sex.”

Emmetts face turned purple.

“I know what he does, Emmett. I know all about Jessica Stanley and what he did to her—“

“Did he tell you that?”

“He didn‟t have to.”

“Stay away from Edward Cullen.”

“No,” I shrugged. “Besides, he won‟t even have sex with me anyway.”

“Bella!” Emmett thundered, “you shouldn‟t even know about shit like that.”

Emmett put his hands on top of his head and breathed hard, then turned to walk away from me.

“Well. He won‟t,” I called after him. “And I‟m not a freaking nun, Emmett. I can know about sex

and—“

I shut up when Emmett stopped walking and completely stilled. I watched the muscles in the backs

of his arms tense and then he exploded.

“Bella…I can‟t…fucking hell, Mama!” he shouted and then his fist hit the wall, right next to my
second grade school picture. The thud echoed in the air and I put my fists to my mouth and stared

at Emmett.

He turned around with wide eyes and his throat looked like it was straining, I could see his jugular

vein, like a thick rope climbing his neck.

“If she was here right now,” Emmett said, “I‟d fucking scream at her for leaving us like this. And

then I‟d tell her to get lost again.”

“Emmett—“

“If she was here right now, none of this shit would be my problem. She fucked us all over.”

“Emmett, I‟m sorry—“

“Just. Stay away from boys, Bella,” Emmett sighed, then walked up the stairs and I stayed put
right there, and cried into my fists.

Late that night, I walked into Emmett‟s room without knocking. And I knew it would be okay.
Somehow, late at night, when everything was quiet, things were always okay with me and

Emmett—no matter what.

He was smoking a joint, half leaning out of his open window into the sticky air.

“Sue Clearwater came by to water the plants yesterday,” I said, trying to get us back on normal
ground. “I don‟t think Charlie pays her to do that.”

“I don‟t think so either,” Emmett said quietly, then yawned and scratched at the hair at the back of
his head.

“I‟m sorry,” I whispered.

He shook his head and stared out the window.

“The whole thing,” he said slowly, “is just shit. You know?”

“Yeah,” I said, and sat on his bed.

“I don‟t know what to tell you about shit like this, Bella. Maybe you should talk to Mrs. Brandon or
Mrs. Clearwater…or…hell. I don‟t know. I just know that someone oughta be giving you some kind
of…advice or something, and fuck it, Bella. I‟m tired. I don‟t know how to be a mother figure to a

teenage girl.”

“I don‟t have questions, Emmett. I know the mechanics of sex,” I said to his back.

“I don‟t want to hear about that,” he sighed.

“You didn‟t have to punch Edward. He‟s been really good to me. Better than anyone.”

“I‟ll bet.”

“He isn‟t like that,” I said, and I couldn‟t even help it when my voice got too loud.

“I know what Edward is like, Bella.”

“Not the way I do.”

“Oh, god. Shut up now.”

“I didn‟t mean like that.”

“Just be a good girl, Bella.”

“Is Rosalie Hale a good girl?”

“Rosalie Hale is seventeen and none of your business,” Emmett said, and turned to look over his

shoulder at me.

“I bet Rosalie Hale‟s older brother wouldn‟t feel that way.”

“Watch it, Bella,” Emmett said.

“I turned sixteen two weeks ago. You didn‟t notice.”

I watched the color drain from his face before he turned around and rested both of his palms on

the window sill. His dark head bowed between his shoulders and I looked away.

I‟d never seen Emmett look so…old.

Or maybe really tired.

“Fuck, kid. I don‟t even know what to say.”

“Don‟t say anything. I had a piece of pie with Edward. He‟s the only one who remembered…and

that‟s okay. It wasn‟t like, a big deal…the point is, I turned sixteen. I‟m not a kid.”

“Charlie didn‟t give you a—“

“It‟s not about a damn card or a birthday cake, Emmett! I‟m growing up! I‟m older and I don‟t

need you to hit boys or tell me who I should and should not spend time with—“

“Apparently, you do. Mike Newton—“

“I called Edward and Edward came for me like I knew he would. I took care of it. Or he did. He

always does.”

“He‟s not supposed to be feeling up on my kid sister.”

“Please. I started it. When I was like fourteen. And it isn‟t about that, it‟s not just about the

touching stuff. I can‟t help it, and I don‟t think he can either. It just is what—“

“Get out.”

“What?” I asked.

“I‟m tired. Get out and tell your boyfriend to stay the hell away from me, too.”

I went to my own room and resigned myself to the fact that it was just going to be one of those

days where you don‟t ever stop crying.

I lay on my back and let the tears fall slow at first, then fast. They snaked down my temples and I

felt them slide into my hair and make warm streaks down my cheeks that turned cold in seconds.

I cried harder when it occurred to me that it was the first time I went to Emmett‟s room at night

and things weren‟t okay by the time I walked out.

Everything was changing, somehow, everything was turning and evolving.

And I cried the hardest when I thought about what Emmett would be like as a brother if Mama

never left. He wouldn‟t have to worry so much or be such a tired asshole all the time.

I cried even harder when I realized I‟d never know, because she did leave and Emmett was right.

She screwed us all over.

Chapter 6.

Emmett hadn‟t talked to me in a week.

Charlie didn‟t notice anything amiss, but that was probably because Sue Clearwater stopped
charging him ten dollars a week to do our laundry. I noticed she started mixing her own clothes in
with ours and she hung her ironed skirts right next to Charlie‟s starched uniforms on the line in the

basement.

On one awful Wednesday evening she bought a stew over, which was normal but the difference

was she stayed and ate it with us.

Sue Clearwater sat in Mama‟s chair at the table and buttered a roll for all of us.

“Don‟t you have to feed your dogs?” I asked, when she offered me a linen napkin.

We always used paper napkins.

We didn‟t even own any linen napkins.

“Bella! Don‟t be rude,” Charlie said.

“Oh, the dogs are fine. I fed them before I left,” Sue shrugged, not insulted in the least.

Emmett shoveled stew into his mouth and used his linen napkin and I didn‟t touch any of it.

When Emmett stood up to take his plate to the kitchen, Charlie told us both to clear the table.

I almost opened my mouth and asked him if he remembered that he used to pay Sue to do the
dishes on Wednesdays, but that would probably be pointless anyway.

Emmett and I stepped around each other and didn‟t speak.

At the sink, Emmett scraped the plates and I wet the sponge and I wanted things to be okay with

Emmett and me.

“Charlie probably fucks Sue,” I said.

“Probably,” Emmett sighed.

“I wonder what Mama would say. She didn‟t like Sue Clearwater.”

“If Mama cared who Charlie fucked, she‟d be here doing these dishes right now,” Emmett said.

I bit my lips together and blinked as I squeezed suds from the sponge.

“It‟s true,” Emmett said. “She didn‟t give a damn about Charlie, me or you. She just—“

“Shut up Emmett!” I shouted and my flat palms hit the water, soaking the front of both Emmett‟s

and my shirts.

“No, Bella. You walk around here rude to Sue, who actually does stick around, and you act like

Charlie shouldn‟t have a life—“

“He was married—“

“And she left! Because she wanted to! Because she didn‟t want any of this!” Emmett shouted back,
much deeper and louder than my own voice.

“You don‟t know what she was thinking, Emmett, you don‟t know what—“

“No one knows! Because she was crazy—she locked herself in bathrooms and cried all the damn

time. She was a drunk—“

“Stop it,” I screeched, “All of you—you and Charlie are—god, sometimes, I swear to God, I can

understand why she left. Sometimes I think I‟d be better off if I ran away from all of you, too.”

And it wasn‟t even true.

The plate Emmett was holding hit the wall and before the shards of glass even hit the floor his

hands were on my shoulders, wet and holding too tight.

“Don‟t you ever say that, Bella.”

“Well, I would!”

But really, I never would.

“Don‟t. Say. That.”

“I never asked you to be a parent to me, Emmett. I never asked to be your burden—“

“I never asked for it either!” he shouted back, leaning down and getting in my face.

“Lemme go,” I screeched and kicked his shin.

Then just like that, he took his hands off of my shoulders and walked away.

I stood there, wet and shaking. All of my joints were burning and too loose, adrenaline rolled
through me in a sick way, because we had never, ever said things like that.

We never actually said things that needed to be said.

Most of me wanted to go to Emmett, and tell him I didn‟t mean it and that I was sorry and that I

knew he was just…trying his hardest.

But instead I leaned down to pick up the glass at my feet and cut my finger.

I stayed squatted on the floor and stuck my bleeding finger in my mouth and stayed very still.

“Your dad said I could come on in, he told me to tell you to be more careful with the dishes—oh.”

I looked up to see Rosalie Hale, standing in my kitchen with her red lips and blonde, stringy hair.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I cut it,” I said, holding my finger up.

Rosalie and her red lips walked over to me and when I stood, she grabbed my wrist with cool

fingers and turned the cold tap on, then stuck my hand underneath it.

“I don‟t think you need a band aid,” she said. “Just keep it under there for a minute.”

I nodded and swallowed hard.

She moved and I looked over my shoulder at her and watched her carefully pick up the broken

glass and throw it piece by piece into the trash can.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“You been crying?”

“It‟s stupid,” I said, suddenly feeling very small and very young next to Rosalie Hale.

“It usually is,” she sighed. “You should take a broom to the floor. I couldn‟t get the smaller pieces.”

“I‟m really sorry about your friend. Jessica Stanley.”

Rosalie shut off the tap.

“Emmett upstairs?” she asked.

“Yeah. And really. Thank you.”

She kind of nodded then walked away, and she didn‟t even look back once.

Later, after I‟d cleaned up the kitchen mess and after I heard Rosalie Hale give one last throaty
laugh and leave Emmett‟s room, I held my breath and walked downstairs and to the living room

and picked up the phone.

I looked at the old, wooden clock on the wall.

Midnight.

He‟d be up. He‟d be the only one up at his house.

I hadn‟t talked to Edward since the night he drove me home after Newton kicked me out of his car.
Probably because I didn‟t want to know about Jessica Stanley or anything that had to do with that

whole thing.

I didn‟t want to know any other side of Edward other than the one I loved, the only one who just

listened to me and made me feel okay.

And I needed that side of him right now—regardless of what else he was capable of, he was the

only one who ever got it.

He was the only one capable of not looking at me like I was a poor orphan when I talked about

Mama.

Too much had happened and too much was said today, and I just needed someone…I needed him.

The only one.

I bit too hard on my lip while I dialed, and when he answered on the second ring, instead of saying

hello I let out a burst of air.

“You alright?” he asked.

“No.”

“What happened?”

“Everything.”

“Where you at?”

“Home.”

“You want me there?”

“I need you here.”

There was a long pause.

“Give me twenty minutes….and keep your window open.”

“Okay.”

Chapter 7.

After I opened my window as wide as it would go, I crawled into bed and waited for Edward, and
when my eyes started to close, I fought against sleep, because he said he was coming, and he

always, always did what he said.

“Hey. Scoot over.”

My eyelids dragged open and I could make out the faint, dark shadow of Edward‟s disheveled hair

above me.

I rolled to my side and he lay down on the bed next to me, smelling like the humidity and

cigarettes.

“Thanks for coming,” I murmured then I felt his fingertips on my forehead. My eyes closed and the

bed shifted, and I felt his heavy breathing against my eyelids.

I smelled him, right under his jaw and snuggled down into the covers and closer to him.

“Tell me it‟s okay to kind of hate her,” I whispered and edged lower down until I could feel his chin

at the top of my head.

We fit together perfectly when I did that.

“It‟s okay.”

I nodded and pushed my face into Edward‟s chest.

“Emmett is such an asshole,” I mumbled.

“Nah, Bella. He‟s just…it‟s like he‟s got the weight of the whole world on his shoulders, ya know?”

“No.”

“Don‟t…blame him. He‟s just trying to look out for you. He‟s trying to do too much for a kid his
age…so you don‟t have to.”

“He‟s a jerk,” I said into Edwards shirt.

“Sometimes. But when your mom left, it‟s like she took his whole…it‟s like he couldn‟t just be a kid

anymore. And he never wanted you to feel like that.”

“You think?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“Is that why you keep all those things we do quiet? So Emmett doesn‟t worry?”

“Emmett is-- look. Emmett has a lot of shit to deal with. You know, Bella, I‟ve been coming around
here forever, and when your mom left—I just saw him take on a lot of shit. He doesn‟t need any

more.”

“Yeah, but you‟re not shit,” I said.

The bed shook softly with his low, quiet laugh and he kind of pulled softly at the back of my hair,

so I‟d unbury my face from his shirt.

“You might be the only one who thinks that,” he whispered.

“I know that.”

He kissed me, with dry, warm, closed lips—once for goodnight.

I flopped my leg over his hip and attacked his neck with my tongue.

“Nonono,” he groaned and I pushed into him with my hips. “No Bella, not tonight…”

Edward never kissed me or touched me in other places when we were in my bed he always only
talked or slept, even when I could see the bulge in his pants and I knew he wanted to do more

than talk.

I reached down, in between his hips and mine and rubbed it with my hand like he likes me to do

and he shivered like he does.

“Bella…no…shit…okay…”

He slipped his warm, chapped hands up to my jaw and tilted my face up and his mouth was open
but kissing my throat and I pulled at his shirt, because that felt so good and I wanted him even

closer.

Then the distinct sound of Emmett‟s bed springs creaked through the wall and Edward stopped.

He leaned his forehead into my throat and didn‟t make a sound.

“It‟s okay, he‟s sleeping,” I whispered, and yanked on his shirt.

“It‟s not okay—“

“It is…he didn‟t wake up—“

“That doesn‟t make it okay…Jesus…”

“Edward—“

“Bella. Just…sleep now.”

“But, Edward—“

“Bella. Please. Don‟t say anything else…sometimes, when you talk, it‟s too easy to forget who you

are.”

“But…that is who I am, when I‟m talking to you…I‟m not just Emmett‟s kid sister—“

He made a deep, grainy noise and I tried to shift so I‟d be on top of him. He grabbed my hips and

put me flat on my back.

“Just…enough for tonight,” he said, and he sounded so tired, I gave in and shut up.

I wanted Edward to keep talking, I wanted him to tell me more about all the things I didn‟t
understand and more about all the things everyone kept quiet, but instead he rolled to his stomach

and jammed his hands under his chest and fell asleep.

Then I wanted to wake him and ask what about me?

But I didn‟t because the truth was I had Edward whenever I needed him.

No matter what else he was up to our where his loyalties lied in the Swan family, whenever I

needed Edward, he was there…and I think, somewhere in him, he needed me, too.

In the dark, I listened to his breathing and I could make out the shape of his lips, and even though

I couldn‟t see it, I knew that yellowing bruise was still around his eye.

He took that for me, he comes back to me still—nothing keeps Edward away from me, so I decided

anything he did or didn‟t or won‟t do wouldn‟t keep me away, either.

So I didn‟t wake him again, instead I lay right by his side, and it didn‟t matter if we were touching

or not or kissing or not—because when you love someone, just to be lying at their side is enough.

The next afternoon I was in Alice‟s room, watching her stick cotton balls between her round, pink

toes and inspecting my own chipping nail polish.

Alice‟s toenails were always shiny and freshly painted. Mine were always chipped, even if I‟d just

painted them, they always seemed to be chipped.

“Anyway,” Alice was saying, “I didn‟t think an underwire would make that big of a difference, but it

really does.”

She leaned forward and blew on her toes.

“Or it could be the three inches of padding,” I said, nodding toward her cleavage.

“Jasper likes it,” she smiled.

“I‟m sure he does.”

“His father is going to promote him to foreman at his factory in the fall. Jasper says we‟ll be able to

afford a house in Pine Grove by the time I graduate. I want to be a full time home maker—“

“You sound like your mother,” I said.

“Hardly. Jasper and I are going to do nothing but make love and I‟m going to bake chocolate cake

for dessert every night.”

“Good luck with that, Alice.”

Alice snapped her head up and her smile fell.

“What is your problem today? Couldn‟t you at least act a little supportive?” she asked.

No.

The truth was my problem was Alice was making plans for her future and her white picket fence
with the boy she loved and I couldn‟t even get Edward Cullen to commit to taking me to the damn
movie theater.

She had a boy who gave her awful jewelry and promised to buy her houses and I had a boy I didn‟t
really have at all—only when things were desperate, only when it counted most did I have Edward.

But maybe that wasn‟t enough anymore.

“Just because you‟re jealous of me and Jasper—“

“I am not jealous of you and Jasper Whitlock.”

“You need to get over Edward Cullen. He doesn‟t love you. He‟s no good. Poor Jessica Stanley—“

“Shut up, Alice.”

I was abruptly angry and looking to hurt her feelings. The pit of my stomach burned and I suddenly

needed to lash at something.

She looked like I just slapped her in the perky face when she realized I just told her to shut up.

The pink iced hand went to her face and her mouth set in a thin little line.

“You don‟t know anything, Alice,” I said, getting to my feet. “You know how to bake chocolate cake

and sew A-line dresses and follow Jasper around like a puppy, but that‟s all you know.”

“I don‟t know anything? You‟re confused about everything Bella. My mother says you‟re so

confused and you make bad decisions because your mother left—“

“Shut up—“

“My mother says you are misguided and up to no good because you don‟t have a good role model.
We prayed about it and I felt like I was being led to be a good influence in your life…but now, Bella,
I can see that just won‟t work,” Alice finished in a clipped tone and tapped the bottle of cotton

candy pink polish on her palm.

“Does your mother know you do it with Jasper in his car?” I asked dryly.

Alice turned bright red.

“Jasper and I are in love.”

“Your mother wouldn‟t agree with that logic. I guess she‟s not such a great role model, either.”

“You‟re not welcome here anymore, Bella. Please leave.”

But me and my burning stomach and my trembling hands were already at her door, and before I
put my hand on the brass knob, I took a deep breath and wondered when these long, hot days

would ever stop turning the world upside down.

“Morrison tells the truth, Swan kid. Always,” Tyler called out at me when I passed him barefoot on

the burning cement of the driveway with my chipped toenails. “You look like you need the truth.”

I kept walking forward with rigid knees and my eyes couldn‟t really focus and the only thing I could

think was why, why, why was I always so alone?

Why did everything good seem to slip past me and grace everyone else?

Why couldn‟t me and Emmett be the way me and Emmett used to be?

Why couldn‟t Edward just talk to me and make out with me all in one day—wasn‟t that normal?

Wasn‟t that the way it was done?

When did everything get so damn complicated and would it ever just be easy again?

Why was Alice such a naïve, princess know it all with a perfect boyfriend and a perfect mother?

Why did mine leave?

My bare feet hit the pavement hard with every injustice in the whole world.

And when I finally made it home on raw feet with a swelling lump in the back of my throat, Sue

Clearwater was sitting in Mama‟s seat at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee.

“Where have you been?” she asked, and her eyes looked puffier than normal and she wasn‟t

wearing her wire framed glasses.

“You‟re not my Mama. I don‟t have to tell you—“

“Your brother had an accident.”

Chapter 8.

“Emmett?” I asked.

Like I had a brother to spare.

But.

Emmett doesn‟t have accidents. Emmett is strong and he always knows what he‟s doing and
Emmett doesn‟t mess up.

Ever.

Sue nodded and all the heat in me turned to ice.

Everything came flooding back, vivid and painful—seven years ago Sue Clearwater was in my

kitchen and I had come in from Alice‟s and Mama never came back.

And maybe if Sue kept her mouth shut and I didn‟t move a muscle, maybe Emmett would just walk

in the door.

“Bella—“

“Where‟s Charlie?”

“He‟s at County, now Bella—“

“Please don‟t speak,” I whispered.

Please don‟t say Emmett won‟t be back.

“Listen, Bella, we have to be quick,” she said, getting up, and she shouldn‟t be moving. “Emmett

was fixing a car, for a friend—“

“Shh—don‟t—“ I sputtered out and my fingers pressed against my lips.

“The jack was broken. He didn‟t know that and—“

“Stop it.”

“I‟m supposed to drive you up there—“

“Is. Is he dead?” I asked, tipping my chin up and asking her if she was breaking the rest of my

family.

Emmett.

“No. He‟s in surgery, or he was, and they don‟t know if—“

“He‟s alive? Right now?” I asked, and something inside of me flipped on.

Sue hesitated then nodded as she grabbed her car keys.

“Take me, please. To Emmett,” I said quietly.

The smell of sick and bleach burned my nose and I timed my breaths to the click of Sue‟s pumps
behind me.

I couldn‟t wait for her, I had things to say.

A big nurse with big sorry eyes told us Emmett was in room 207. I rode the elevator with Sue and
she kept trying to touch me and talk to me and I kept moving away from her, just trying to get to
Emmett.

The doors dinged open and I stepped out and Rosalie Hale was there, with what must have been

her parents hovering around her.

Her lips weren‟t red but her eyes were big and pink and there were black red splotches all over the

front of her pink t-shirt.

“I didn‟t know it was broken, Bella. I swear, I didn‟t know,” she said, slow and shocked when I

walked past her.

Emmett‟s name was on a plaque just to the right of the door, but it didn‟t look the plaques he had

his name on for baseball and football.

“One at a time,” a passing nurse said, but I walked in anyway, because you can‟t put rules on this

kind of thing.

I saw Charlie‟s slumped and wrinkled back. His shoulders looked frail and narrow and just past

him, all I could see were huge lumps under a light blue blanket.

“Dad?”

Charlie turned around and I stumbled back a step.

I‟d never seen Charlie cry.

Not when he nearly sliced his thumb off fixing the lawn mower and not when Grandma Swan died

and not even when Mama left, even when I thought he should be crying.

Charlie stared back at me and I looked at him until my mouth turned dry and my throat itched,

then Charlie turned back to Emmett and kind of shifted over to the side and

Oh!

No.

“No…Emmett,” I cried and shook my head, but I couldn‟t take my eyes off of him. My face twisted
up and my stomach was so sick I had to press the back of my hand to my mouth and bite down to

keep from gagging.

There was blood, black and crusted around his nose and there was a tube up his left nostril.

His lips were blue and his whole face was swollen.

Swollen and fat and distorted.

No one had combed his hair and he hadn‟t shaved since three mornings ago and they had his

hands tucked under the blanket.

“I‟m sorry,” I yelped, muffled and shaky through my hand. “I didn‟t mean it!”

Charlie‟s chin fell to his chest and I pushed past him and scrambled to the side of the bed, to be
closer to Emmett.

“Emmett, Emmett I didn‟t mean any of that, what I said the other day, about leaving? I didn‟t
mean it. I didn‟t! You know it, too—“

“Bells, honey, he can‟t hear you—“

“Yes he does, he has to,” I snapped.

“He can‟t. He‟s pumped full of—“

“I get a chance to say things this time. If he…leaves. I have things to say to him, first. I‟m going to

say them.”

Charlie took a step back when I glared over my shoulder at him, then I turned back to Emmett, but

let my eyes close this time.

I took a deep breath and started again.

“The birthday thing wasn‟t really a big deal. Really. I really wasn‟t upset by it. And you‟re right, I
shouldn‟t bitch about eating too many sandwiches. There‟s nothing wrong with sandwiches. And
even when I don‟t act like it, I always really, really like telling people you‟re my older brother.
That‟s stupid, but I do, and I want you to know that. I want you to know that…I know that you
were just trying your very best and I‟m really sorry that I didn‟t…or, if I made things hard for you.
I‟m sorry…and, it was me who broke the needle on your record player, but you knew that, I

guess…”

“Bells?” Charlie said, when my choking had cut me off.

“Will he die?” I asked.

“God, Bella…”

“We can‟t just…let him go like that, Charlie.”

He put his hand on my shoulder and I jerked away because Charlie was always just letting people

go without putting up any kind of fight at all.

“He hasn‟t even fixed the door yet,” I said to Charlie.

“Bella, maybe you oughtta go get a—“

“Fix it. Fix it this time, Charlie. Don‟t just let him go.”

Charlie looked at me like he didn‟t even know who I was…and I felt the same way about me, too.

And then I walked out.

I had to—that guy didn‟t even look like Emmett. He wasn‟t sleeping on his stomach like Emmett

does and he didn‟t snore like Emmett does and what else could I say to make him stay?

“Bella, Bella, I‟m so sorry,” Rosalie was saying again but I didn‟t even look at her this time, I kept

walking until I was running half way down the hall.

To Edward, who was there, leaning against the white wall with a yellow eye and his car keys

dangling from his fingertips.

I ran into him full force and he caught me up in his arms like I needed him to and like I knew he
would. His arms wrapped around my neck and my waist and he held me tighter than he ever had

before.

The keys dug into my back and Edward smelled like sweat and fresh cut grass and his shirt was

damp but none of that mattered.

I put my face in his neck and he let me cry, right there in that hallway, while Emmett lay half dead

and not himself at all.

He held on to me for a long time and I held on just as tight because Emmett was hurt, Mama was
gone, Alice wears Jaspers pink ice and no one ever caught the guy who put that boy in the creek

and Tyler Brandon is still waiting for The Doors to change the world.

In the meantime, the world was falling apart.

Chapter 9.

“He looks awful,” I finally whispered into Edward‟s ear, still in the hospital hallway.

“C‟mon. Let‟s get outta here,” Edward said and put his lips on top of my head while he guided us

down the hall and to the elevator doors.

I kept my eyes shut and he led while I heard Rosalie Hale crying and Sue telling Edward to take me

home.

In the closed, stuffy elevator my head spun and I breathed too hard and when we dropped it felt

like the earth had fallen out from under our feet.

“You gotta calm down, Bella,” Edward said but I didn‟t feel like I was panicking.

“He‟s going to die,” I said matter of factly and shaking my head. Edward let the back of his head
hit against the elevator wall and I stood straighter. “He‟s going to die,” I said again and Edward‟s

eyes closed and my own words bit me and shocked me.

And then I felt the panic.

“He‟s not…gonna die,” Edward said.

“Emmett is all that‟s left. He can‟t leave me here! He can‟t—I don‟t even know what I would do or—

“

“Bella, he‟s gonna be fine—“

“You can‟t know that, Edward! You cannot know that. He is all I have, he‟s—“

“You have me.”

“Emmett,” was all I could say.

“You‟ll always have me,” Edward said.

I don‟t remember the drive to my house or the things I said and cried when Edward spoke, or if he

spoke at all.

What I remember is Edward taking down the bottle of whiskey from the cabinet above the sink and

watching him take a long drink from the bottle.

Then he handed me the bottle and I took a sip, too, and choked it down and let it burn up all of the

ice inside of me.

“I don‟t even know what the hell happened,” I said weakly after we drank from the bottle quietly

for awhile.

Edward leaned against the kitchen counter and squinted one eye to peer down into the bottle of

whiskey when he spoke.

“Rosalie Hale‟s car fell on him. Half fell on him, anyway. He was underneath it and the jack

just…gave out.”

I buckled forward and wretched while I held my stomach.

“He was doing her a favor,” Edward said limply, and I heard the glug of whiskey when he tipped
the bottle up to his mouth again.

“Couldn‟t someone else have fixed her damn car? Couldn‟t she have taken it in—“

“My guess is he wanted to fix it for her, Bella.”

I slowly turned my head to look at Edward, who was staring straight ahead with glazed over eyes.

“Why?”

“Maybe he wanted to show off. Maybe he wanted to take care of her. Maybe he loves her.”

“Emmett. Does not love Rosalie Hale,” I said.

“Maybe not. But people want to be there for people they love,” Edward said.

“You were there today, for Emmett,” I said.

And I didn‟t say it, but he was there for me, too. He always was.

“Yeah.”

“If he dies,” I whispered, “I can‟t stay here. If he dies, I‟ll have nowhere to be. Charlie just…I‟ll

have no one left, really.”

“He won‟t die,” Edward said, and plunked the bottle on the counter behind him.

“Don‟t say shit you don‟t know about, Edward.”

“He had the best surgeon in the state. My father. He won‟t die.”

“I didn‟t know that.”

“Well. Now you do.”

“Edward, if you would‟ve seen him…I mean, his whole face was just—“

“A fucking car fell on his gut, Bella. He ain‟t gonna be the prettiest guy in the world for awhile.”

An awful sound came out of me and Edward winced and turned his back to me.

“Sorry,” he said. “I should go. I left the lawn mower out—“

“No, please don‟t…leave me alone here. Please.”

“Bella, I don‟t—“

“Edward. Please. Everything is all wrong and I don‟t want to be all alone for it. Don‟t go.”

His face kind of twisted in indecision for half a second, then he let out a short, sharp breath and

grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the counter and walked past me and headed up the stairs.

I followed his slow, heavy steps on the stairs and down the hall all the way to my bedroom.

The heat was always worse upstairs and it was giving me a dull headache already.

I shut the door behind me, quietly, even though no one else was in the house, then I walked to
Edward. He was standing in the middle of my room in soft, dirty jeans and a shirt so thin and worn,
I knew it would feel feather soft on my fingers. I knew it would slip off of him easy and light and I
knew everything underneath that shirt would feel strong and sure against me…the only thing that

wouldn‟t slip away.

I took the bottle from his limp hand and he let me, too easily. I carefully set it on the floor, then I
picked up his limp arms and I wrapped them around me, and held them in place, until I could feel

him holding me tight enough.

“You say I have you. No matter what,” I whispered and hoped it hid the cracking in my voice. He

said I had him, he couldn‟t just…take that back.

His head kind of rolled to the side and a sound came out of his chest and maybe I shouldn‟t have

been asking for that right then, but I did.

Because I needed him and he said I had him.

“Not for this. You don‟t—“

“I know you know us, no matter how you act. I‟m not asking for anything else right now…you can
go behind Calls with Jessica Stanley or whoever, but you promised me you‟d be here when I
needed you. I need you. I need you to change this whole day for me. Turn it into something else,

okay?”

“Listen to yourself, Bella, you don‟t even know what--you can‟t—Emmett is laying in a hospital bed

and this is what you want? Bella. You‟re not even—“

My hand slapped into his side and then my fingers dug in, because I just needed him to listen to

me, to what I was saying.

“I want anything that isn‟t that. I want this whole day to mean something else—“

“You can‟t just run away from something like this. This won‟t go away—“

“I don’t run! Just…for a little while, just for right now, I want us to be alone and I want everything
else gone and Edward, you can do that for me, you can turn this whole day into not a whole
nightmare—“

He abruptly took my chin in his calloused fingers and jerked it up.

“You can‟t go back,” he said, staring down at me with some kind of intensity or determination I‟d
never seen him look at me before with. I tried to shake my face free from his grip, but he held on
to my gaze with his eyes, driving his point home, making sure I understood.

“I wouldn‟t want to go back. I can‟t have another day like this—I can‟t have one more day be the
worst day of my life. Give me something good to go with it.”

“I don‟t have any rubbers,” Edward said flatly.

“I do. On the last day of school Paul dared Jared to steal one from Quilleute Drugs. He was too

scared to bring it home so they stuffed it in my book bag.”

I walked over to my top drawer and dug under my socks and underwear and the two cigarettes I
stole from Edward months ago and found the condom, walked back over to him and put it in his

sweaty hand.

Edward rolled his eyes and his shoulders sagged and I couldn‟t tell if he was happy to give in or
just pissed off, but it didn‟t matter. I was going to take everything I needed from him as long as

he‟d let me.

“Okay?” I asked, just to make sure, just so I could hear him just once tell me yes.

He shook his head no, but then his grip was back on my chin but much looser and his fingers never
left when he bent his head to kiss me. He ducked down into me and kissed me with his chapped
lips. He was dry on my wet lips and one of us was too salty and I pulled back on him and he

pushed us forward until he fell on top of me on the bed.

I scooted up the bed while he fumbled with his belt buckle then I pulled up my skirt and he pulled

my underwear to my ankles.

I kicked them off and he lowered himself until his hands were on either side of me on my bed and I
pulled down on his pants and we had never been so…methodical before. We never really worked
toward a point or this goal before. It had always been just kissing, the kind that turns painful after
so long—and just doing whatever would come next, without thinking about it or trying to get

somewhere.

But this.

This was different.

He moved like he had to, and he didn‟t kiss me and touch me all over like he usually did.

Edward yanked my shirt to my chin and pulled the white cotton bra cups down and I closed my
eyes hoped he didn‟t prefer black lace, too.

Finally, I felt his tongue slip into my mouth, dry and soft and I moved my lips for both of us,
because he had stilled to slip a hand between us.

He moved his face from mine and hid it in my neck and I let my palms go flat on his back and
pressed them into his soft t-shirt. It was softer than anything I owned and seemed to slip under

my hands. I bunched the material in my fists to get a good grip on him.

His back curved, so his face pressed firmer into my neck and there was a gap of too far away
between our chests but then he rubbed one finger on that spot that he does.

“You‟re sure?” he whispered.

I nodded and held on to all of that soft in my hands and for a second, I let myself pretend I could
feel angel wings. Embarrassing even myself, I imagined him to be some sort of personal guardian,
just for me—the only one who was ever, ever just always there and willing to fix it.

Whatever it was.

I was ready for this.

I was ready to be someone new—I was ready for this whole day to change.

And then there was a lot of pressure between my legs, and it wasn‟t so bad, it wasn‟t all of the

painful hype I‟d heard about.

My shoulders relaxed and I let out a breath into his shoulder and then he pushed forward, fast.

Shit!

“Ow—ow!” I yelped out and I slapped at his back—not to move him or make him stop, just to do
something with the burning pain between my legs.

This. Was the hype I‟d heard about.

Edward sighed and kind of groaned out, “Stop?”

“No?”

He stabbed at me again.

“Ow—“

“Shhh…” he uttered into my ear.

“It hurts!” I spat back into his hair.

His hands went to the backs of my knees and he kind of made me bend them more.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

He started moving again and I wrapped my legs tighter around him. You know how if you cut your
finger, you squeeze it really tight and you don‟t know if that is taking care of the pain or not, but

you do it anyway? I suppose it felt like that, but I had more reason to hold on tightly.

He made a bass like noise and kept moving and then I noticed he was sweating. I concentrated on
what wasn‟t hidden of his face. Damp copper hair curled up loose around his ear and I followed his
hairline all the way down past his ear, where the hair changed from damp, thick and rich to scruffy

dark stubble at his jaw.

When I was sure I‟d always remember that, that the visual was locked in my memory, I closed my

eyes and breathed in deep. He or I guess we, smelled like humidity and grass and cigarettes.

Edward sighed hard and one of his hands rubbed up on the side of my hip and it was really starting

to feel more like a raw ache than a sharp one now.

“Are we almost done?”

Edward raised up on his hands and looked down at me, and his hair tickled my forehead.

Then he pushed off of the bed and slid out of me with just a little less pain than when he went in.

He rolled over and flung his arm over his eyes.

“I‟m sorry,” I said.

I pulled my skirt down and sat up and saw him, that arm still covering his eyes, and he

was…grabbing at himself.

The limp piece of rubber was at his side and it smelled like tires squealing right there in my room.

I watched him while I pulled my bra up, moving his hand up and down and saw how sometimes his

thumb ran over the very tip and then I got angry.

He was always doing this.

He was always going off and leaving me and all I ever wanted for him was to be always near me.
And he knew that. He knew he helped me and he knew I depended on him and still. He never gave

enough.

But he always gave some.

And that had to mean something.

“Why do you do this?” I asked, and the words were harder than I expected them to be, but I was

proud of that.

His hand froze for half a second before he stopped all together and raised his hips, then pulled his

pants up.

“I‟m sorry,” he mumbled. “It‟s my fault. I knew you weren‟t—“

“I was ready!”

“No. You‟re looking for all the wrong things. You don‟t know what‟s good for you and I know
better,” he said, and sat up. He hung his head and scratched at the wild hair on the crown of his

head.

He stood up and used the hem of his shirt to wipe his face, then picked the bottle back up from the

floor.

““Edward. You‟re being…mean. Why are you doing this? Why are you being like this?” I asked.

“Haven‟t I told you yet, Bella? I‟m not your fucking salvation. I‟m not some kind of safe place for

you to go—“

“You said I have you. You said I have you always! You said—“

“I said, I said, I said—you believe everything you hear. That‟s your problem, Bella.”

“No. You don‟t lie to me. Ever,” I said, because despite everything else that I was no longer sure

of, I knew that much was true.

He sucked in his bottom lip for half a second then put the bottle to his lips.

“No,” he said quietly into the bottle, “I don‟t.”

He took a drink and I put my face in my hands.

“You‟re confusing me, Edward. Okay? You can‟t do this to me. Not today, not right now.”

“I‟ll go.”

My head snapped up and I flung myself from the bed and toward him.

“You don‟t get to go!” I said, and tugged at his arm.

Everyone was always leaving and he just couldn‟t. I wouldn‟t stand for it. “Everyone else leaves—

you don‟t lie to me and you said you‟d be there—you don’t get to leave.”

“Do I ever?” he actually yelled back at me. “Don‟t you sit here and act like I take off, because I‟m

always, always around for you. I‟m here—even though it‟s all wrong.”

“What is with you? Why is any of this wrong?”

“Jesus, Bella—you don‟t get it,” he said, and he tried to shake me from his arm.

But he didn‟t try hard enough.

“You don‟t get it, Edward. I‟m sick of just hoping you‟ll come around and I‟m sick of being dropped
off four houses down and I‟m sick of being some kind of puppy who follows you around and I‟ve let
so much go because I know you‟re the only one who—I just—why can‟t you just—why do you have

to be like this? Why can‟t you just—“

He wrapped his free hand around my wrist and bent his head, so he was looking at me directly in

the eye, so we were on even ground.

“Do you have any idea,” he asked, low and quiet, “what it‟s like to think about you the way I do?

Do you know what it‟s like not to just be able to let you go?”

“What?”

“Do you know what it‟s like to walk out of here with Emmett and act like I never even saw you?
You‟re driving me crazy all the fucking time—even when you‟re not in my car or up in my face. You
make me feel like a traitor to Emmett and you‟re always making me feel like I‟m the slimiest
bastard in the world and I can’t even help it. I don‟t stay away from you like I should because I
don’t want to. I give a shit about your feelings and I‟m always worried about you and I always
want to have my hands on you and all of that mixed together is just…it‟s hell.”

I smiled, slow at first, and then I laughed in his distraught face.

He flinched then put one hand on my neck.

“Do you think this is funny? You don‟t know what it‟s like thinking that some punk kid is gonna
come along and slide into my spot while I‟m busy not doing a good job at keeping my damn hands

off of you?”

He shook me off from his arm and cracked his neck to one side.

“I don‟t know if I‟m a pervert or everyone else is overprotective…you have no idea how hard it is to

try to be so careful with you—“

“Then don‟t! I‟m not breakable—“

“Bella. Look. I‟ve been around here forever, I see both sides to this whole shitty mess. I know
Emmett sees you as a kid, I know he‟s just looking out for you the only way he knows how. But,
clearly,” he said, rolling his eyes, “I see things he doesn‟t. So, it‟s…part of me wants you all
sheltered and the other part of me just wants you, period. So, Bella, don‟t sit here and tell me I’m

confusing you. You‟ve been confusing the hell outta me for years now.”

I took a step back and put my hands on my hips.

“I think you love me.”

“Jesus, Bella,” Edward sighed.

“You don‟t have to say it, but I heard it. And I believe everything you say.”

He stared at me for a second, with his mouth kind of half open and his eyes squinting in bemused
disbelief.

I shrugged backed.

“You‟re going to get me into a shitload of trouble,” he finally said.

“No. It‟s not…wrong, like you think. I‟ve grown up. It‟s just…you‟re the only one who noticed.”

He laughed dry and humorless while he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

“I noticed,” he said all dry and flat.

“If we can just—“

“There‟s just so much shit, Bella,” he said, and he sounded tired all of the sudden, like I had finally,

finally broke him.

I wanted him to kiss me then. I wanted him to tell me he was mine and then I would tell him that
all that other stuff doesn‟t matter to me and I wanted him to tell me again that Emmett would be
okay and that he knew I was right about us.

But then we heard the front door open downstairs, and I knew I wouldn‟t hear any of that.

Charlie and Sue were whispering in the kitchen and both of them shut up and stared when Edward

and I walked in, rumpled and worn looking.

Charlie looked exhausted and old as he looked from me to Edward and back before he spoke.

“Exactly what I need right now. Go home, Cullen.”

Edward lightly kicked my calf with the toe of his shoe and shuffled off, taking my answers and my

reassurance with him.

I was left with Charlie and Sue and the reality of the day came crashing back down on my

shoulders and my chest.

“How‟s Emmett?” I asked.

“We‟re going to talk about that,” Charlie said, his thumb jerking behind him to the open door
Edward just walked out of. The screen kind of swayed then stilled right in the middle of open and

closed.

Because Emmett never fixed it.

“Just…Emmett?”

“He has extensive internal injuries,” Charlie said stiffly.

“What does that mean?”

“It means…he‟s very, very sick.”

“Cut the crap, Charlie. What does it mean?”

Charlie stared at me for too long, with glazed over eyes.

“It means he‟s fucked,” Charlie said flatly, then rubbed a hand down his face and walked away.

I stood there in the dark kitchen with Sue Clearwater and for a brief second wondered how life
could have ever led to these circumstances.

“Tell me,” I said.

Sue leaned against the countertop and pursed her lips.

“His spleen ruptured. His pelvis is shattered. Lots of intestinal damage, they had to remove a lot of
it…they won‟t know about spinal cord injuries until he wakes up…the good news is his heart is

strong.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“You have every right to know.”

“I think…I‟d like to be alone,” I said, and headed for the open door.

“Bella. If there‟s anything you ever want to talk about…about Emmett or anything else, I‟m here.

And I‟ll always be honest with you.”

“Are you going to marry Charlie?”

Sue raised her eyebrows, but she didn‟t look surprised.

“I don‟t know. He hasn‟t asked.”

My lips pressed into a tight line and I nodded.

“Thank you, Sue,” I said, and headed out to the porch to take in this surreal and awful day.

Chapter 10.

I sat on the stoop and let my toes curl and scrape on the cool cement and waited to cry, but it

never happened.

I talked to God or Mama, and I told whoever it was we really, really needed Emmett to be okay.
Charlie, Edward and I, we needed Emmett—and not just because he is good, even though he

really, really is, but because he‟s so strong and he keeps us all together and we need that.

I thought about my vagina and all the things that happened to it today and squeezed my legs shut
against the burn, but it wasn‟t a bad burn. It felt like a reminder of Edward, like he left something

behind to get me through the night.

And then I thought about Edward and the things he said but didn‟t and I wondered what he was

doing right now and this time I didn‟t wonder if he was thinking about me back—I knew he was.

I thought about Alice and Jasper and their house in Pine Grove and I figured her mother would
probably sew her a wedding dress and I wondered what kind of suit a guy with one arm would

wear to a wedding.

I thought about Jessica Stanley laying sweaty in a hospital bed somewhere with no one there to

hold her hand and I wondered if she put her hand on her stomach and missed her baby.

I wondered if Edward missed that baby or thought of it at all.

I hoped he didn‟t, because I didn‟t know what it would mean for me if he did—but more because I

didn‟t like to think of Edward being sad or missing anything.

I wondered if he would do that to me, too. If he would send me to one of those doctors who do
illegal things—but somehow I couldn‟t reconcile my Edward with an Edward who would do

something like that.

I thought about these strange summer days and wondered if this was growing up or falling apart

and decided whatever it was, it can hurt like hell sometimes.

I yawned and thought of Emmett again, and I hoped he didn‟t know no one was there with him

right now and then a dark sedan pulled up, right in front of our curb.

Rosalie Hale got out and it took me a second to realize why she wasn‟t driving her white

Thunderbird with T-tops.

No one ever got around to fixing it.

I looked up at the sky and I heard her coming closer.

“I didn‟t know where else to go,” she said. “The hospital kicks you out at eleven.”

“Home,” I shrugged.

Then Rosalie Hale sat down right on our cement walkway, right in front of me and under me.

“I didn‟t know,” she said. “That it was broken.”

I finally let myself look at her, really, really look at her.

There will still splotches of black blood all over her pink shirt and I squinted my eyes and saw black

underneath her fingernails.

My eyes closed and I turned my face from her and she started to cry softly.

“I‟ll never forgive myself. You don‟t have to, but…I just wanted you to know that I won‟t either.”

“Did you ask him to fix your car?” I asked, and I was surprised at the calm in my voice.

“No…he just…went ahead and did it, but, you know…that‟s him,” Rosalie said, and her down turned
mouth tried to smile. “He just wheeled underneath on those things mechanics use…you know…like
a skateboard? And I was handing him things…you know, he would ask for a tool and I would hand
them over…and each time he‟d come out, from under the car…and I‟d lean down and kiss him…like

a stupid game or something—“

“He did that?” I cut in abruptly.

“Sure…he‟s funny, you know…how he‟s always playing around all the time…”

And then I did remember that.

I remember before Mama left, Emmett would chase me around the backyard with worms and once
a gardener snake…and sometimes he‟d hide in the hall closet and jump out to scare Charlie after
his shift…and once, when he was almost twelve, he‟d gotten taller than Mama already and he lifted
her to the counter, so she could get a can down, and he left her there. She laughed and he stayed
just out of her reach and danced around for awhile and Mama just laughed and laughed and

laughed.

And Emmett did used to be like that. It‟s just, I forgot about it—the way he used to make us laugh

all the time.

“And then…I leaned down to kiss him and I had this stupid wrench in my hand…and it
just…happened,” Rosalie said, her voice monotone and shocked sounding, like she could still see it
but couldn‟t believe it. Her eyes went wide and she kept talking.

“There was this huge crash and then his eyes…Bella, I‟ve never seen eyes that looked like
that…and his mouth and his nose started bleeding everywhere and…oh…god…”

Then Rosalie Hale leaned over and puked all over the cement and the weeds no one got around to

edging.

Without thinking, I got up and walked over to her and sat down, right there next to her while she
puked and cried and gagged. My hand reached out and I rubbed her back, because Emmett must
really love her and it just felt like that‟s what I should do for her. Because if he was here, that‟s the

kind of thing Emmett would do.

Rosalie finally curled up, with her knees to her chest in a ball of long limbs, blonde stringy hair and

black splotches.

I sat next to her and our arms touched and finally she leaned her cheek on her knees and looked at

me.

“I was going marry him.”

“What?”

“In six months. We were just going to…do it.”

“You were?”

“I love him.”

“He told you that? That he was going to marry you?”

Rosalie nodded then wiped her nose on her jeaned knees.

“He was going to leave me?” I sputtered.

Rosalie shook her head and took a deep breath.

“You are…his priority. Everything is Bella. Believe me. He told me…” Rosalie drew another deep
breath, “he told me if we can‟t find a house close to the school we‟d live with Charlie, because Bella

won‟t want to switch schools…and he won‟t leave you.”

“He said that?”

“Yeah. I used to be really jealous of you. How sick is that?” Rosalie asked.

“No. It‟s not.”

“Emmett,” she said, for no reason probably than just to say it.

“You‟ll still marry Emmett,” I said, comforting someone else without even trying to. Giving away a

part willingly, because if Rosalie made Emmett happy—he should marry her.

Rosalie shook beside me.

“I mean it. He‟ll be okay. Edward Cullen told me so and Edward doesn‟t lie. I know what you must

think about him…because of your friend Jessica Stanley and all that…but—“

“What?” Rosalie asked, confused and red eyed.

“All that stuff…about Edward and Jessica…”

“Why would I care about Edward Cullen?”

“Because he did that. And now Jessica is sick and…”

“Jessica isn‟t sick. She‟s perfectly healthy. The people around here are the sick ones. Out of

wedlock pregnancy isn‟t a sickness.”

“She didn‟t…Jessica Stanley is still pregnant?”

“Of course she is. Her parents are catholic. She‟s just pregnant in Texas now, is all. Her parents

want her to give up the kid for adoption, but Jessica wants to keep it.”

“But. He can‟t…wait, what? She is having that baby?” I sputtered, shocked that I felt kind of

relieved but more devastated than anything else. “He can‟t…what‟s he gonna do?”

“He doesn‟t want any part of it,” Rosalie shrugged. “She can get payments or whatever…”

“I…fuck him,” I spat, venomous and loud.

“He‟s an asshole,” Rosalie said dryly.

“Understatement,” I blurted out, my heart pounding and my head spinning.

“Most boys are jerks, Bella. I‟m sorry—“

“I just—he was just here and we just…oh, god, we just…”

“Wait. I thought you had a thing for Edward Cullen,” Rosalie said.

“How can he just—not if he just—“

“Bella?”

“What?”

“Jessica is knocked up with Jasper Whitlock‟s kid.”

“What?”

“Jasper knocked Jessica up. Then he dumped her. He gave her this awful ring—“

“Pink. Ice.”

“Yeah—that‟s it. Ugly. Isn‟t he humping your friend Alice Brandon now?”

“Yes.”

“You should tell that girl to watch out.”

It was quiet for a few minutes and somehow I found myself with my arm around Rosalie Hale‟s
back while she cried into her knees and I didn‟t feel alone just then, and not just because I was
with Rosalie…but because of Alice and Jasper, Jessica and Emmett and Edward and even Sue
Clearwater. Our problems and questions twisted together and ran the same path sometimes…but
they were no different than me. We were all enduring our own during these long, hot hazy strange

days.

Chapter 11.

I walked downstairs very early the next morning, maybe even before the sun was up. I smelled
coffee and the steam from Charlie‟s shower and I couldn‟t sleep anyway, so I figured I‟d go down
there and catch him before he left to see Emmett, so he would take me with him, too. And of

course, I‟d have to stare at him while he told me not to have Edward Cullen in my room.

Edward Cullen.

Who didn‟t knock up Jessica Stanley. Who was actually inside of me last night. As I reached up for
a bowl, I looked at my arms, then my fingers, like I expected not virgin limbs to look different. I

mouthed the words „I had sex’ to myself.

„I had sex with Edward.’

„Edward and I had sex.’

I reached for the cereal and decided I didn‟t feel much like a different person…but. It was the
words last night that made me feel different. It was those things he said that made me feel like

everything was new and possible.

And it wasn‟t so much what we did up there in my room as much as it was what he told me that

offered me the distraction and the distinction I needed.

I poured myself some cereal and sat down to a note scribbled on the back of a hardware store

receipt that read:

Went to see Emmett. No boys in your room—Dad.

It occurred to me Charlie must‟ve woken up very, very early to go see Emmett. He must‟ve been
worried and really wanted to be with him, and I don‟t know why, but that surprised me and made

my chest hurt in a way that maybe wasn‟t hurt.

When I was rinsing out my bowl in the sink, trying not to think about what Emmett would look like
today, I decided I‟d ride my bike all the way up to County to see him or maybe I‟d walk to O‟Hare‟s

and wait by the bus stop for a bus.

But I didn‟t have to do any of that, because Edward‟s Challenger burned into our driveway before I

even shut the tap off.

With wet hands I flung the screen door open and made it from the stoop to the lawn in two steps

with bare feet.

I stood on the lawn, and my toes and ankles turned to itchy ice in the wet grass that no one had

mowed in days, but the sun was getting stronger and keeping me mostly warm on top.

I crossed my arms over the ruffles across the chest of my nightgown—it was too small, Mrs.
Brandon bought it for me for my thirteenth birthday and there was an old ketchup stain on the

hem, but it was the only one I had and Edward had seen me in it many times before anyway.

He got out of the car with a half burned cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth and kicked

back to shut the door.

“What?” he asked, squinting one eye in the stream of smoke before I even said anything.

“You‟re here.”

“I thought you‟d need a ride to County.”

“Why didn‟t you tell me it wasn‟t you who got Jessica Stanley in all that trouble? You knew I
thought it was you and you didn‟t—“

“Hell.”

“Tell me.”

“It was a good lesson. Don‟t believe everything you hear,” he said, then dropped the cigarette on

my driveway and stepped on it with his worn tennis shoe.

“Bullshit,” I shrugged.

Edward looked up and for a second I thought he might yell, but then one corner of his mouth

turned up into a kind of smile and he looked up at the sky.

“You calling me out?” he asked.

“Yes.”

He laughed, deep and quiet about something I didn‟t understand.

“What is funny?”

“It‟s just nice to see,” he said, then leaned in and tapped my forehead with two fingers, “that

you‟re finally starting to question shit.”

I swatted his hand away and tried not to smile back.

“You smoke too much pot, you sound like a hippie. Now tell me why you really did that.”

Edward took a step back and leaned against his car.

“I thought it would send you running after a nice boy,” he said dryly. “I thought you‟d lose your
cool and go some place you‟re supposed to be. I was wrong. You‟re much harder to scare off than

you seem to be.”

“Maybe you‟re not that scary. Or maybe I just really knew all along you‟d never do anything like

that. You are a nice boy,” I mocked. “I want us to talk about last night…and you know…”

“Jesus, Bella.”

“Edward, I—“

“Bell. Can‟t that just be enough? Just for a little while? There‟s so much other shit going

on…just…cool it. Just let it be for a second.”

“Fine…but tell me you‟re not going anywhere.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his chin on the shoulder of his t-shirt, then let his chin drop to his

chest.

“I‟m not going anywhere.”

I was feeling confident on the way to the hospital, and even on the ride in the elevator—I knew
Emmett would be okay. I was feeling optimistic and even though he was being quiet, Edward was

there with me and that alone made me feel better.

Still.

Right outside room 207, I hesitated.

Edward had his hand on the knob and he was just going to stroll right in there, like Emmett wasn‟t

laying broken on the other side of that door.

And I knew Emmett would be okay—he had to be—but still. Something about seeing Emmett

helpless and broken—it made me feel like the whole world had gone mad.

I reached out and yanked the back of Edward‟s shirt and he stopped and looked over his shoulder.

“I…need a drink.”

“There‟s a fountain—“

“I want a Coke. I think I‟ll go down to the cafeteria for a second.”

“Okay,” Edward shrugged.

I turned to go, but then he called my name.

“Bella?”

“Huh?”

“He‟ll be okay. I promised. Remember?”

I nodded and watched Edward slip into the room and I noticed he left the door open a tiny bit for

me, for whenever I was ready.

I stood there, wringing my hands and counting my breaths.

If it was me in there, Emmett would go in. But I‟m always the broken one and that is our

dynamic—this was all backwards. It was all wrong.

I leaned right there, against the wall and tried to figure out how accept the fact that it was my turn

to be the stronger one.

And then I heard Edward.

“You look like shit…so, what happened hero? Didn‟t check the jack?...Hale‟s a mess, she came over

last night, crying all over the place. I‟m fucked up about it too I guess…your sister…”

It was quiet for a few minutes and I stopped breathing, listening hard, waiting for some kind of
answer and I put my hands over my stomach, because I had never, ever actually heard Edward

and Emmett talk about things that matter.

But right then, it occurred to me they must.

“I‟m just gonna say this shit now and hope you can hear…or you can‟t…but this time it can‟t end up
in a fucking sucker punch so…this is probably not what you want to hear right now and maybe I‟m
wrong for saying it right now but, I just after last night—it can‟t wait anymore…fuck it…she‟s a
mess and Em…I won‟t be one more thing that‟s confusing to her right now…I won‟t be the next
thing that up and leaves on her because I don’t want to. Maybe that ain‟t right, but I don‟t think so
anymore. I ain‟t out to hurt the girl but that‟s all I ever do to her. It didn‟t start out the way you
think, I mean I was never looking for a lay from her, she‟s not like Mallory or Vicky or—I never,
shit, well—you asked how long it‟s been going on. About two years. And you were right, it was

some sneaky underhanded shit and it made me feel like shit and it made her feel like shit. That
was where I fucked up Emmett. Hiding it just confused her and it made me feel shitty. It made it

seem wrong or like that shit is shameful, but it was never like that…”

It went quiet for a few seconds and I put my fingertips on the open door and saw Edward, at the
foot of Emmett‟s bed. I saw Emmett‟s feet, two lumps under that blue blanket, and I couldn‟t make

myself look further up.

Edward sighed heavily and I watched him absently mess with a roll of white medical tape. He
swung it around one finger, then palmed it, then picked at the fraying edge, and when he started

talking again, it was quieter, and he didn‟t look up from that damn roll of tape like I wanted him to.

“She says she‟s in love. She thinks I‟m some kind of hero or some shit…and you think I‟m out to
get in her pants since I noticed she got tits--sorry…the truth is, neither of you are right, or more,
you‟re both kind of right. She‟s more than what you see and I‟m less than what she sees…Bella is a
lot—she‟s more than what you give her credit for…and you‟ve seen me do shitty things, but I‟ve
seen you pull some shit, too—look. You can trust me. She can trust me…” he stopped talking again
and I watched him balance the tape on the edge of the metal bed without effort. He let one hand

hover over it for a second then rolled his shoulders back before he picked up the damn tape again.

“You can kick my ass when you get outta here, but it won‟t change shit. She‟s gonna keep getting
older and I‟m gonna keep seeing her, and Em…I think it‟s good. I won‟t hide it anymore, I‟m not
gonna be one more unsure thing for her and I‟m not gonna be one more thing she‟s ashamed
of…because I‟m sure of her. She can handle her shit, hell, she can even take mine and Emmett, so

much is wrong for her right now, but not me.”

Then he finally lifted his head and that look on his face—I knew that look.

His mouth was set and his chin ticked a fraction to the left, his brow furrowed so his eyes looked
dark and angry and that was the look on his face when he made his mind up. That was the look he
made at me when he decided enough was enough and there was no changing his mind…only he

wasn‟t looking at me.

He was looking at Emmett.

“I‟m done being one more fucked up thing for Bella. She‟s not a kid. And I‟m done acting like she
is,” he said, and with a sharp and sudden flick of his wrist the tape flew up in the air, and he

caught it mid air in his fist.

“…god, I sound like a pussy…I‟d kick my ass, too if I were you based on this conversation
alone…anyway, Crowley finally got that hash he‟s been on about…Mrs. Brandon put a prayer card in
our mail box sometime last night, I thought you‟d think that shit was hilarious…Yankees lost last

night, you owe me five bucks…”

I slid down the wall and listened and cried and wondered how the whole world could keep changing

so much when Emmett was so still.

I was all overwhelmed and couldn‟t really figure out why I was crying, just that I was crying the
kind of tears that won‟t stop…but then it hit me suddenly that too often really wonderful things are
mixed in with really horrible things and you just have to take it all and hope good things keep
coming, too, and that is the very hard and confusing part about…life.

Chapter 12.

I was still on cold tile floor in the hospital hallway when Edward finally came out.

He nudged my shin with his shoe and I looked up before I wiped the snot and tears from my face.

Edward looked down at me and his expression didn‟t change once. He never looked all concerned

when I cried, he never looked at me like he felt bad for me…and I really loved that about Edward.

I stood up probably too quickly and threw my arms around his waist and held on tight while I

wiped my face on his shirt.

“I love you, too,” I said.

“Oh god…”

“I listened. I heard what you said and you‟re right…”

Edward‟s hand went to the back of my head and he kind of scratched softly under my hair.

“He‟s going to wake up and kill me,” he said and he laughed in a way that wasn‟t really like a laugh

at all.

“No. He‟ll see. Just wait and see, Edward…he‟ll see.”

Edward didn‟t say anything for a few seconds while he peeled me off of him.

“You gonna go in there or what?”

“Is it horrible…if I just can‟t today?”

“No.”

“Emmett would go in…if it were me…”

“Bella. If you don‟t want to see all that, don‟t go in. He doesn‟t look much better today.”

I felt my face crumple and a nurse with big white orthopedic shoes turned the corner and started to
say something about being quiet in the hallway.

“We‟re going,” Edward told her over my head. “C‟mon…let‟s get out of here.”

And he turned to go and then without a word Edward did something Edward had never done
before. He reached out behind him and grabbed my hand. I shuffled behind him and watched our
hands and even though no one else probably noticed, Edward Cullen was holding my hand—in the
elevator and past the reception desk and all the way into the parking lot—Edward was holding my

hand-- for anyone and everyone who bothered to look to see.

I sat on my knees in the bucket seat and rolled down my window all the way, but it didn‟t do
anything to help the heat. My shins and knees stuck to the hot leather and I ran my hand along the

back of my neck to wipe the sweat that was making my skin prickle.

Edward started the car and as we were pulling out, I leaned over and kissed his cheek. He shook
his head at me and drove us away from the hospital and I hoped Emmett would forgive me for

that.

I expected us to go to the train tracks, but we didn‟t.

We went to the old school grounds just behind Olson‟s lot. There used to be an elementary school
there, but it burned to the ground the summer my Mama was pregnant with me. All that was left
was old playground equipment and this huge dark field that never grew grass. I used to follow
Emmett and Edward there all time when we were kids. They‟d drag baseball bats along the gravel
all the way to the lot and tell me to get lost as soon as Mama was out of earshot, but I‟d always
keep following them anyway. Once they took off running and I lost them, but Edward had never
picked up the bat and I followed the line in the dirt all the way to them. Even then, I think he knew

what he was doing, I think he didn‟t want to lose me.

The metal slide was dinged up from kids throwing rocks and the sun was blazing off of it, making
shiny spots and it looked hot to the touch. Edward sat on a swing and stuck a cigarette in his
mouth and watched me grab for the monkey bars for a second before he lit it. I couldn‟t reach the
monkey bars and they were rusty anyway, so I gave up and walked behind Edward and pushed

him.

“Remember when we were kids, and you and Emmett used to make me push you on the swings,

even though you could get them going faster by yourselves?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Edward said and I pushed him forward again.

“We had sex last night,” I blurted out.

“Yep,” Edward said. “You alright?”

“Yeah…it‟s not…you know, the boys in my class make all these jokes about cherry popping. Get it?

Like because of the—“

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Anyway, Alice thinks having sex means like, making love and turning into a woman and Mrs.
Brandon thinks it‟s sinful if you‟re not married…Charlie never said anything about sex to me and
everyone is always saying how it‟s this huge life altering thing or something…” I trailed off and

pushed him forward again.

“So?” he asked.

“So. I don‟t think it‟s like that. For me, anyway, I think it was none of those things. I think that
with me and you…it wasn‟t a big deal. I think that we were already connected anyway…and I just

don‟t want you to think that I think it‟s wrong or…I mean. It was just us. Only physical.”

Edward stayed quiet so I stopped pushing him and walked around to face him. I grabbed the chain

link ropes of the swing and he looked up at me and squinted one eye in the sun.

“When did you get so smart, little girl?” he asked, and flicked his cigarette between his middle

finger and his thumb up and over my shoulder.

“Maybe when I got boobs. I heard that, what you said to Emmett,” I said and smiled. “But did you
really notice that? Because compared to like, Rosalie Hale or Jessica Stanley, I‟m flat…but mine are

bigger than Alice‟s—“

“I don‟t wanna talk about Stanley or Brandon‟s tits. You‟re not flat, anyway,” he sighed.

“Did you ever have sex behind Calls Whole Foods?” I asked, because suddenly, I felt free enough

to do that.

“Yep,” Edward said, and reached forward and poked me in the stomach.

“I can‟t believe you just told me that.”

“You asked.”

“When? With Jessica Stanley? Or—“

Edward pulled on the hem of my shirt and I tried really hard not to feel like crying or hitting.

“Lauren Mallory when I was fourteen. And that‟s the entire Calls story. For me, anyway.”

“You do it with a lot of girls.”

Edward didn‟t say anything, he just pulled me in closer by yanking on my shirt and I remembered
about what I thought before. What he did or didn‟t do doesn‟t matter, because he‟s mine, and now

I knew it.

His forearms rested on his knees and he looked down to the rocks and dirt on the ground so the
top of his head rested against my belly. I put my fingers in the sweaty hair at the back of his head

and combed through it and twisted it around.

“I know it wasn‟t you…but do you think about Jessica Stanley?”

“Sure…Jessica was alright. Whitlock is a piece of shit. I guess it happens though.”

“Yeah…would you ever take me behind Calls?”

Edward laughed then, soft and low and I let my fingers slide to his clammy neck.

“Nah,” he finally said, then looked up at me. All of his hair had fallen forward and into his eyes and
the back where I had been messing with curled up and all over. “But I‟d take you to an old

schoolyard.”

I laughed and he pulled on me until I was turned and sitting on his lap in the swing. I leaned back

and his chin rested on my shoulder and we held on to the chains, my hands just below his.

“You‟ll stop going with those girls, though, right?” I asked.

“There‟s no one else Bell.”

I nodded and Edward lifted his legs with mine on top of his and we looked at my small feet next to

his big ones.

His face went into my neck and I asked him to kiss me and he did, right there on my neck.

“Edward?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you remember about my mother?”

“Jesus…umm…I remember she always smelled good—“

“Gardenia.”

“Whatever. I remember once I got a sliver in your backyard—right in my heel and she got it out
with tweezers and put Bactine all over it. Esme hated when we played ball with no shoes but your
mom used to say it‟s important to let your feet feel the earth or some shit…once she made hot

chocolate and she put rum in it and gave it to me and Emmett—“

“She did?”

“Yeah. I was ten and came home drunk. I wasn‟t allowed over your house for like a month…I never

told my parents it was your mother…they just thought Emmett and I stole it or something…”

“Why would she do that?”

“I don‟t know. But I remember she was sad a lot—“

“Do you think she hated having kids? Or being married?”

“Nah.”

“Well…then why?”

“You know Bella…I could tell you the talk of the town or whatever, but it‟s all bullshit.”

“Does Emmett ever say anything? About Mama?”

“Not a lot.”

“She should know. About Emmett. She‟s his mother—he should have a mother here right now. I

bet if she knew she‟d come back, I bet she would—“

“Bella?”

“What?”

“Have you ever just…asked?”

“What?”

“Have you ever just asked Charlie about all of this?”

“I…no.”

“Maybe you should.”

Chapter 13.

I held one arm out of the window and let tiny bits of gravel sting my hand while Edward drove back
to my house. I let my head lay back on the sticky, hot seat and put my red chipped toenails on the
dashboard and Edward drove with one squinted eye and a cigarette hanging from the corner of his

mouth.

“Dylan is playing at the Palladium next week,” Edward said out of nowhere.

“Are you asking me out on a date?” I asked, sitting straight up.

“I‟m telling you Dylan is playing next week. I‟m going. Are you coming with me?”

“Yes.”

Edward nodded his head and I pulled my arm in and leaned up against him while he drove.

“And Edward…I‟d love to go on a date with you.”

He looked down at me for a split second and rolled his eyes before the corner of his mouth turned

up a little bit.

“Are we going steady now, too?” he mocked and pushed my shoulder with his.

“Yes,” I said, and pushed his shoulder back with mine.

He reached over the steering wheel with his left hand and pushed the side of my face away and

called me ridiculous.

I lifted his arm up and wrenched myself underneath it, even though it was too hot to be that close

and told him I think he liked that about me.

He didn‟t deny it.

Charlie‟s police cruiser was in our driveway when we pulled up to the house.

“Are you coming in?” I asked, even though I knew he was going to say no.

“No.”

I nodded, because I knew I had to go in there alone anyway. Some things not even Edward Cullen

can walk you through, and that was scary and true all at the same time.

“Just…ask him Bell.”

“Yeah…”

I put my hand over my mouth for a second and tapped my fingers on my cheek…just too nervous
to go in there and ask things I needed to ask.

Edward grabbed my hand from my face and kissed me once before telling me to go.

“But what if he yells or says he won‟t—“

“I‟ll be around.”

“Okay,” I nodded, then took a deep breath and got out.

Inside the house was dim and dark. All of the curtains were closed, Charlie must have done
that…when it gets really hot out, sometimes Charlie goes around and shuts all of the curtains so
the sun stays out. There was no afternoon buzz of a baseball game on the T.V. or the whish of the

washing machine…everything was too quiet and still.

I walked up the stairs and the first thing I noticed was Emmett‟s door was wide open. Emmett‟s

door was never just…wide open.

I stood in the doorway and Charlie was there, sitting on Emmett‟s bed with a brown paper grocery

bag from Calls at his feet, looking down at a yellowing square in his hands.

It looked all wrong, Emmett didn‟t like people in his room—and I couldn‟t remember the last time I

saw Charlie in Emmett‟s room at all.

“What are you doing?” I blurted out and walked into the room and towards Charlie.

“He‟s up. He needs a few things,” Charlie said, and tossed the square on the bed beside him.

I looked down in the bag and saw Emmett‟s sweatpants and his toothbrush were in there and

Charlie‟s portable transistor radio.

“He‟s up?” I asked. “He woke up? Did he say anything? How is he?”

“He‟s…up. Groggy. But he‟s…thank god, he‟s up,” Charlie mumbled off at the end.

“He asked for a radio?” I asked, nudging the bag.

“Nah…I just thought…maybe he‟d like that,” Charlie said, and he rubbed the back of his neck and

closed his eyes for a second.

My eyes flicked to the paper on the bed Charlie had dropped and oh!

It was a picture, thin and curled up at the corners and grainy, but a photo I‟d never seen before.

“Where did you find this?” I asked, snatching the picture up.

My fingertip touched Mama‟s smiling face. She was bent over Emmett, who was sitting in front of a
big round cake with the number two on it. Her hand was on top of his head, and he had all these

soft dark curls that I supposed he would have when he was two.

It was her, I‟d know her from anywhere…but she didn‟t look like I remembered her looking. She
was smiling her smile, the same one Emmett has, with deep dimples, but her eyes were all wrong.

Mama was staring past the camera and past Emmett and she looked…lost.

“Dad…where did you get this?” I asked again.

“It was with his socks,” Charlie said.

“Emmett kept a picture of him and Mama?”

“I guess he did.”

“How…how come you don‟t care? Mama…Mama should be here. She should be getting Emmett‟s

things and she—he needs her. How come you don‟t care that she‟s gone?” I bleated out.

Charlie sighed and rubbed his hand down his face and he looked tired, but I didn‟t care—he should

care.

“I care, Bells. There‟s a lot—“

“Don‟t you even miss her at all? She was your wife and you just…you act like you don‟t even…why
did you let her leave us all like that?” I whispered and folded my arms so that picture pressed right
against my chest.

“Your mom, Bella…was very sick…not in a physical way—“

“People say that…but you. You should‟ve helped her get better—you should‟ve—“

“Jesus, Bella. There were psychiatrists and pills and „vacations‟ and much more…I tried. I tried with

your mother more than anything I‟ve ever tried at…she just—“

“I don‟t remember any of that,” I said, and even I was surprised at how…accusing it sounded.

“Good…it‟s always been my biggest fear that you would,” Charlie said. “I gotta take this stuff to—“

“I want to know. I want you to tell me Charlie…because she‟s my mother and I think that I should

know. If what you say is true…I mean, was she a drunk? Did she not love us at all—“

“Do you think that, Bella?” Charlie asked, all quick and sharp.

“I…don‟t know what I think…I don‟t know enough to think anything, I guess.”

Charlie‟s hand covered his moustache and he rubbed at the whiskers there for awhile before he

spoke again.

“She loved you. Very much…but I think…she just didn‟t know how to…do this. Bella, it doesn‟t

make much sense to me either…”

“Can you tell me? What you know? Would you do that?” I asked.

“Bella, I don‟t know what it…what do you want to know?”

“Mama used to tell me you met her at a dance.”

“I did…I was outside of the dance with a few buddies…and your mom was going inside with a bunch
of her girlfriends…and she had a flower or something in her hair and my buddies started saying
stuff to the girls…and they all walked really quick past us…scared I guess…but Renee, she laughed
really loud, in that big way that she did…and she told me to wait for her for two hours, right there

in that lot. I did,” Charlie said, and his voice was gritty and slow.

“You did that?” I asked.

“You should‟ve seen this flower in her hair,” he said and smiled at something that wasn‟t even in

the room with us.

“She told you just to wait?”

“Your Mama…I probably stayed because of that laugh…you laugh like her…you‟re a lot like your

mother. You know that?”

“No, I didn‟t…”

“Well. You are.”

“Does that ever…does it bother you?”

Charlie looked up and blinked at me, like he couldn‟t believe I just said that.

“Never, Bella.”

“Why did you let her go?”

“I didn‟t…let her go. You know, when you were four, she left you at a bus stop. Alone. I almost had
a heart attack when you turned up at the station…an older couple picked you up and bought you
in…when Emmett was about a year old, I left for work one morning and he was sleeping in his crib.
When I came home your mother was gone and Emmett was screaming in that damn crib—it was
an eight hour shift,” Charlie sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Those are two of many worst days of my
life. I started having people just…look out for you guys…I don‟t know if you remember, but your

Grandma Swan came to live here for awhile, because I just couldn‟t leave you two here.”

I stared at the picture in my hand and didn‟t remember a damn thing about any of what he was

talking about.

“I loved her very much, Bella…but it got to a point where…my children had to come first. She did
start to drink and when she said I didn‟t trust her with you two, I didn‟t lie to her…and that‟s when
she started to get help. We saw all kinds of doctors, she went on all kinds of medicine, but no one
really ever had any kind of answer for us…and sometimes it was okay. And those days are the
happiest days of my life, kid. And I think they‟re hers, too…but she would always slip—things would
always happen, just when I thought…this time it‟ll be different…something would always
happen…and I just—look. When it was that hard for me, I knew I could never let it be that hard for
you and for Em…”

“So…you just let her go?”

“No,” Charlie said lightly. “She left. And Bella, I looked. We had the entire station out looking for
her…other jurisdictions, other states. I heard from her cousin when you were twelve. She told me
Renee was doing well…Renee was happy…Renee didn‟t want to be found—“

“But she...she is my Mama. I don‟t…how did she do that?”

“I don‟t know,” Charlie said, and he looked up at me, right in the eye. “I don‟t know. But I know
she loved you very much and I think…she thought you‟d be better if she wasn‟t here…maybe that‟s
true and maybe it isn‟t, Bella…but somewhere along the way, something happened right. Because
your brother has turned into a man I‟m very proud of and you are…you are everything that was

wonderful about Renee, and then some.”

I turned my head to the ceiling and swallowed down hard at the painful lump at the back of my

throat, but it didn‟t help, because the tears came anyway.

“Bella…I know that, uh, it‟s been rough around here…I know that maybe I haven‟t been the best
mother. I don‟t know how to be a mother—and this isn‟t what I thought my life would be,
either…but that doesn‟t mean it‟s bad. You know that I love you though, kid, right? You know none

of it was your fault or your brothers fault…”

“Do you ever hate her?” I whispered.

“Not once. I hate what she‟s done, I hate her illness and I hate some decisions she‟s made…but I

could never hate Renee.”

“I don‟t think I hate her, either,” I said, but it was so strained and so quiet, I barely heard the

words myself.

“And Bell? I think we‟re doing okay.”

I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand and nodded hard.

“We are, Dad. We‟re doing okay.”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah.”

“If, um, if you ever want to talk about anything else…you can ask,” Charlie said. “I don‟t know if I‟ll

know the answers…and I know I don‟t say too much, but I‟d try…”

“Yeah. Maybe I will.”

Charlie nodded and stood, then picked up the bag.

“Can I come with you? To bring his things? I‟d like to see him, now that he‟s up—“

“Sure…and Bella?”

“Hmm?”

“Edward Cullen?”

“God, Dad.”

“He‟s got a decent curve ball…watch those fast ones, okay kid?”

“Yeah, Dad.”

“And keep him out of your room.”

“Yeah, Dad.”

“Okay,” Charlie breathed out and then he scratched the top of his head. “Oh, hey, Bella?”

“Huh?”

“Caught that guy…who put the kid in the creek.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, two days before Emmett…well. I knew it was bugging you, thought you‟d wanna know.”

“Thanks, Charlie.”

“Dad.”

“Dad.”

Chapter 14.

“You can go on in, Bells,” Charlie told me, right outside of room 207.

I wasn‟t sure if he wanted to be alone with Emmett or if he was giving me some kind of time to be

alone with Emmett, but I took a deep breath and nodded.

Because this time I could go in. If Emmett was up, if he had woke, the world would be much

better, much more in order.

So, I went in.

I stood in the doorway and stared at my feet for a very long time, because even though I hadn‟t
looked yet, I knew Emmett wasn‟t sitting up in his bed, eating or laughing or bitching.

After I gave up counting the frayed strings of my shoelaces and moved on to counting my
heartbeats, there was a kind of slurp or a gurgle noise and my head snapped up.

Emmett was in that bed, half reclined and his purple eyelids kind of twitched and no one had
combed his hair yet.

“There‟s a bag on my side…to hold shit in…”he rasped out, and his swollen dry lips barely moved.

“That‟s really gross,” I whispered back.

Emmett‟s head turned slightly to me, just barely, so I wasn‟t really sure if it was on purpose or not.
Someone had cleaned off the blood crusted at his nose and the tube that used to be shoved down

his throat was gone.

Somehow, like, impossibly—Emmett looked…small. His shoulders were about as wide as the flimsy
bed and his arms were out of the blanket and as big as always, so I couldn‟t quite understand how

he looked…small.

His face was white and purple and blue and the whites of his eyes were yellow…but I didn‟t look
away, even though I wanted to—even though Emmett should never, ever look like that and even
though I knew I didn‟t want to have to remember this…I didn‟t look away.

Because he needed me and I needed him and this is what you do when you‟re in a family and you
don‟t run away. Maybe Mama couldn‟t do this, but I could. I could do this for Emmett.

Then I walked right over to that bed and very carefully climbed in, right next to Emmett. I lay very

still, I didn‟t want to touch his tubes or hurt him, and my nose wrinkled.

He smelled faintly of pee and bleach and sterile bandages.

Emmett‟s head shook, slight but rapid, like an old people‟s do when they‟re staring at you.

“Are you okay—are you like—“

“It‟s…the morphine…”

“Does it hurt?”

“Like hell.”

I scooted toward the edge of the bed, farther away from him, because I didn‟t want to hurt him.

“We used to do this…right after Mama left,” I said.

Emmett kind of winced and tried to shift, then gave up and his body went limp against the bed

again.

“Are you going to marry Rosalie Hale?” I whispered.

Emmett breathed out hard and I identified another smell coming from him—sweat.

“Sure,” he kind of wheezed.

“I think…I‟d like that,” I said.

“Me too.”

“I was really worried about you, Em.”

“You okay?”

I bit down on my lips and nodded.

“Will you fix the screen door, before you marry Rosalie?”

“Yeah, kid…”

“You did real good Em. I mean it…you did…”

Emmett breathed hard again and his eyes closed then slowly opened.

“Once, Edward told me you had the weight of the whole world on your shoulders…and he said you
took on too much…and I guess…it was too much maybe? Because you do too much and it all just
kind of fell down on you… and…and Emmett? I never meant to be a problem for you, or like, a

responsibility…”

“You‟re not a…problem, Bell. What I said about burdens and shit…I was just pissed.”

“Well…but it is kind of like that. But I promise, I‟m gonna try real hard to not be a—“

“Shut up, Bella,” Emmett sighed out and his eyes closed again.

“I didn‟t mean what I said…about how I‟d leave like Mama did. I really, really, didn‟t mean that,” I

said and I knew I was going to start crying then.

“I know.”

“I still miss her.”

“Yeah…sometimes, I do too,” Emmett said, and he‟d never said anything like that before.

“She shouldn‟t have left us, Emmett…I would never leave us.”

“Bell…I can remember about two seconds after that fucking car fell. Two seconds. And all I can

remember thinking is…how did she choose this? How did she choose to leave?”

I stared at the ceiling and closed my mouth tight, so he wouldn‟t hear me crying.

“Yeah,” I whispered back hoarsely.

“But she loved us Bella. All of us…and we‟ll never understand it…and I‟ll always be pissed off at her
for it…but still. I know she loved us.”

“Yeah.”

“We‟ll be alright Bella. Maybe she knew that.”

“Maybe.”

It was quiet and I listened to Emmett breathe too heavily, even for Emmett and I carefully leaned
in closer to him, because his body was working so hard to just work, some little kid part of me
figured if maybe I leaned in close enough, maybe I could take part of the load off of him—maybe I

could carry some of the weight for Emmett once.

The rhythm of his breathing and the quiet footsteps in the hallway and the random beeps lulled me
and made me sleepy and I must‟ve fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes Charlie was

sitting in a chair next to the bed staring at me and Emmett.

I opened my dry fuzzy mouth and sat up slowly, so I didn‟t wake Emmett up, but it didn‟t matter

because Emmett was already awake.

His head was kind of turned and he was looking at Charlie, who was looking back at Emmett and

before anyone said anything, I knew I interrupted something.

Something between them and not for me at all, and the nosy, overwhelming part of me wanted to

whine out „what‟, but I didn‟t.

“I‟ll go,” I said and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

“I‟ll be awhile,” Charlie sighed, “maybe you oughtta go to the cafeteria—“

“I‟ll, uh, find a ride,” I mumbled before I stood up to say goodbye to Emmett. “I‟ll be back real

soon and I‟ll tell Rosalie you‟re up.”

Emmett blinked at me with his swollen eyes and his mouth was kind of hanging open a little bit,

but he gave a slight nod then I walked out to search for a payphone.

I waited outside the entrance of the hospital after I called Edward. I paced the lot that separated
the hospital from the pharmacy and wondered about all the things Charlie told me and I wondered
if Mama thought of me every single day, the way I thought of her. I wondered if she remembered
me how I was, or how she thought I was, like I remembered her. The last time Mama saw me, I
was still missing my left front tooth. She doesn‟t even know what my smile looks like…and I
thought that that should make me sad, but it didn‟t. Because she can‟t possibly miss what she
didn‟t know…and neither could I.

I could be sorry for all the things I didn‟t know and she didn‟t know, but I couldn‟t make myself
miss them. And just when I thought I was on the urge of some kind of epiphany, just when I was

making my fourth lap around the lot, Mike Newton‟s used car pulled up.

He got out and I could see the sweat making his buzzed hair cut look all shiny and almost white.

“Your brother okay?” Mike asked when he slammed his door shut.

“He‟s fine,” I said stiffly and crossed my arms over my chest.

“Heard he was playing a fool‟s game of chicken Hale‟s Thunderbird. Doesn‟t that kid know better

than to drive after a fifth of rum?” Mike scoffed.

I opened my mouth to tell him to shut up because he knew nothing. I opened my mouth to defend
Emmett and to set the whole thing straight, but just as soon as the words started to come out of

my mouth, I stopped them.

It would be a drop in the bucket, it wouldn‟t do anybody any good and suddenly it was like I was
on the other side of the line. I don‟t know how it was that distinct that fast, or even if it

was…maybe it was gradual and I just didn‟t see it coming.

But there I was standing across from Mike Newton and it might as well have been the rest of the
town as well. There were the people like Mrs. Brandon and Mike Newton and Mrs. Call and then
there were the people like Edward and Rosalie and Charlie…the ones who didn‟t believe the talk of
the church lobby and the ones who didn‟t talk about it if they didn‟t know about it…and I was one

of those. I‟d been burned by it before, so I knew better than to stick my hand in it.

“Alright, Swan, I gotta pick up a pint of milk for my mom, but you call me if you ever decide you

want more than a movie.”

“I only do things like that with Edward Cullen,” I said, and tipped up my chin, because that I knew

about.

Mike tossed his head back and laughed.

“Found true love just like little Alice Brandon? We all know how that turned out…I‟ll see you in a

month, tops.”

“I only do things like that with—“

“Yeah, I heard you the first time. Won‟t be long before he knocks someone up or drives himself
into a tree like your brother. That kind doesn‟t go anywhere, Bella. You‟ll see. Do me a favor

though? Tell that kid to get a haircut. He‟s starting to look like a damn hippie—“

And then Mike shut up because Edward‟s Challenger burned into the lot. I turned to go to the car,

but Edward got out. He left the door open and the music from inside of his car blared in the heat.

We listened to the Kinks and just when Ray Davies couldn‟t sleep anymore at night, Edward looked

at Mike, then at me then back at Mike.

Then his shoulder brushed my ear when he took three steps forward and punched Mike Newton in

the mouth.

I stood there with my mouth hanging open and staring while Mike clutched his eye and doubled

over and screamed at Edward.

“What the hell was that! You‟re as fucked up as your dirtball friend in the hospital you son of a

bitch…”

And it went on and on like that and Edward just stood there, right in front of me, waiting for Mike

to come at him but Mike never did.

Then Edward walked past me and to his car and thumped on the top edge of the open door once

and looked over his shoulder at me.

“You comin‟”?

“I…yeah,” I said, and stumbled over to the passenger door.

Edward peeled out of the parking lot and on to the road and he was acting like that just didn‟t
happen at all but his fingers were keeping time with the music and his knuckles were bright red

and swelling from Mike‟s teeth and that was the only way I was sure that whole thing wasn‟t just a
daydream.

“You just punched Mike Newton in the mouth,” I said.

“Yeah, well, maybe that‟ll keep it shut for awhile,” Edward said and grinned at himself.

“But…what about all that stuff about not listening to town bullshit? I mean—“

“Sometimes,” Edward said, taking a wide turn at the corner, “I get tired. I guess I pick my battles.
The look on your face…that was a battle to pick…and it wasn‟t much of a battle,” he said, and

smiled with only the corner of his mouth at me.

“I love you,” I said, and not even in the romantic kind of way.

Edward nodded and stuck a cigarette in between his lips and we drove out of town.

“Where are we going? Laying low?” I giggled and poked his cheek with my finger, because I could.

“It‟s too hot,” Edward said swatting my hand away and then he leaned back to drive with one knee
while he took his shirt off, then threw it on my lap.

It was damp with sweat so I put it to my face and smelled it and he called me gross.

And that‟s how we ended up at the old pond in the back woods of Forks. When we were much
younger, Emmett, Edward and I would swim here all the time—or they would take turns dunking

me and I tried not to drown while they went swimming, anyway.

I stopped swimming at the pond when Alice told me her Mama said you can get diseases or
pregnant from swimming in that water with boys. I wasn‟t so much scared, it‟s just Alice never
wanted to go and we found other things to do—besides, Alice had passes to the public pool

anyway.

“I don‟t have a bathing suit,” I said when we were dipping our toes in the murky pond water. My
other foot was sinking into the marsh, and it had been so long since I felt that—it made me feel

younger and older all at the same time.

“You don‟t have to go in,” Edward shrugged, but then his fingers went to the button on his worn

jeans and I stared at the dark hair that trailed way down.

“The last time we went swimming here together, you didn‟t have hair there,” I said, and nodded

toward it.

He shook his head and laughed quietly, then he kicked his pants off and he didn‟t even tell me to
close my eyes like he used to but he used two hands to cup around himself and he waded into the

water while I watched.

He was a lot broader now, in the shoulders. My face turned red and I watched his summertime
shoulder blades tense at the water. His hips were narrow, probably smaller than mine and for the

first time I saw two dimples at his lower back, right above his butt.

“Your butt doesn‟t have any hair on it,” I called.

“Not yet,” he called with his back still to me and kept walking further in.

“I want to come in, too,” I said.

“No one is stopping you,” he said when he was waist deep.

Edward turned around and put his wet hands in his hair, making it stand up all over, even though
he was just trying to push it back.

I took my shirt off and then my bra and he quickly rubbed a dripping hand down his face and
looked right back at my eyes.

“Throw your clothes higher up on the hill, so they don‟t get wet,” he said.

I took my pants off and tossed them, then my underwear and the whole time he acted like I was

standing there with all my clothes on, which I was kind of grateful for and kind of insulted by.

I put my arms over my chest and walked with my knees together until I was waist deep in the

water.

“Hey Bella,” Edward said, and lightly splashed water at me. “Last time we went swimming

together, you didn‟t have hair there, either,” he mocked.

I splashed back and let my feet kick up, until I was neck deep and doggy paddling around the

water.

Edward leaned back in the water and kicked up one leg to splash at me again and I used two hands
to push water back at him. We laughed and twisted in the water and it was such a relief from the
heat and from the town and hospital and everything we got giddy and for awhile, it was being like

it was all that time ago…only naked.

The surprising part was it wasn‟t uncomfortable or even…sexy.

“Do you hear that,” Edward asked abruptly.

“What?” I asked, and immediately put my arms over my chest.

He waded over to the brown reeds and there was a quick splash. He cupped his hands together

and jerked his head for me to come over.

“What is it?” I whispered for no reason, tiptoeing over to him, sinking in the mucky bottom.

“Snipe,” he whispered back, and I craned my neck to lean over his hands to see, wondering what

the heck a snipe was.

He slowly opened his hands, and then my face was full of water.

His laugh echoed loud and deep while I screeched and slapped blindly at his chest. He caught my

wrists and I went sailing under the water and came up laughing and snorting water.

I retreated to the other side of the pond, eyeing him suspiciously over my shoulder and he went

back to the reeds, still laughing.

“Bullfrog,” he hissed a few minutes later, his hands cupped again.

“Do you think I‟m stupid?” I laughed, floating on my back.

“Do you want to see it?” he asked, his hands were still cupped and he used his forearm to wipe his

wet hair from his forehead.

“No.”

“I swear. It‟s a frog. A baby one. Come look.”

“I don‟t believe you. Besides, why would I want to see a frog?”

“Whatever, I‟ll let it go,” Edward said, turning back around—and he knew it would work and I

couldn‟t even help it because now I wanted to see the damn frog.

I flipped to my stomach and paddled over.

“If this is a splash in the face again I‟ll kill you,” I said.

“No you won‟t.”

He was right, I wouldn‟t.

I kept my distance this time and leaned over, tense and ready for the splash this time.

A frog jumped from his hand hit me in the neck.

“It was a frog,” I screamed, slapping at my own neck.

“I told you,” he laughed.

I came at him with a rush of water and he let me, but I didn‟t splash, I just threw my arms around

his neck.

“I really missed playing with you,” I said, because I had. Things had gone from childhood to tense

secret, and I almost forgot what Edward could be like in the middle of all of that.

I let my legs float up in the water and went to wrap them around his waist, and my eyes went

wide, because I felt him all smooth but hard in the water and we weren‟t wearing any clothes.

When my unsure movement faltered he grabbed my hips, so I knew it was okay and then I felt him

much warmer than the rest of the water right in the middle of my legs.

It was pressed between both of us and he rolled his shoulders underneath my arms and his eyes

closed.

“I think this is what Mrs. Brandon meant when she said you could get pregnant swimming with

boys,” I smiled.

“Nobody‟s getting pregnant,” Edward said, and his hips moved against me in a kind of circle. I put
my arms tighter around his neck and our chests slipped together when he kept making those
circles and all the sudden I was breathing hard because his other parts were doing what his fingers
usually did to me and I had the sudden urge to tell him to go faster or harder or something. Only
three other times when he used his fingers on me this feeling came over me and I loved this

feeling, but instead of telling him I put my chin on his shoulder and pushed back into him.

“Whoa,” he breathed out and his fingers pinched at my sides. “Easy…”

I lifted my hips until I felt the top of it and I remembered that burning full feeling from the other
time and I wanted it again, so I started to push down, but he put his hands under my butt and held

me up.

And hissed out of his teeth, then took a deep breath in through his nose without ever opening his

eyes.

“No one gets pregnant, remember?” he asked through gritted teeth.

I kissed his neck and he put his head back and I kissed a kiss necklace ear to ear on him, then I
kissed one shoulder, then right under his chin then he told me to stop so we could get out and go

to the car.

I pushed off of him and turned to swim when we heard a low whistle and a rustle of leaves.

There was a tug on my ankle and with a quick splash and a small gulp of water I was behind
Edward‟s back.

“Get the hell outta here, Brandon,” Edward called and I looked over his shoulder to see Tyler

Brandon with one arm, just watching us from the ponds edge.

“Nothing wrong with feeling the love,” Tyler said, and he raised his one hand up in the air and let it

kind of sway around.

“Get lost,” Edward said back and he reached one arm behind himself to make sure I was there and

covered by him.

“I ain‟t gonna tell no one what I see…don‟t be afraid, kids. Love is gonna take over. It‟s gonna

change us all…it‟ll set you free, you just gotta share it.”

“Ew,” I blurted out from behind Edward and Tyler laughed something loud and full.

Edward groaned and muttered something about crazy. Tyler made a peace sign at us and told us

he could tell we were in love, and there is nothing better for the world.

I kind of agreed.

“Yeah, well, we‟ll let you know when we‟re ready to share it,” Edward said. “Can you take off so I

can get my girl out of the water?”

“I ain‟t trying to hurt nobody. I never meant to hurt anybody. Not one of them,” Tyler said.

“Yeah. I know, buddy,” Edward said and I remembered that once Alice told me her brother killed
twelve people in Vietnam. I could never put that together Tyler together with the gun shooting
Tyler. He bought in our Christmas trees, he didn‟t kill people…and right then I guessed that Tyler

was having a hard time putting himself in both sets of those shoes, too.

Probably like Emmett did when he was fun around Rosalie and pissed off at home.

Probably like Edward was when he was with Emmett or with me.

Or even Alice, when she was in Jasper‟s backseat or at church with her mother.

It‟s all just a matter of being able to put it together, and I guessed most of the time, the lucky

ones are able to do that.

Tyler nodded at Edward and swallowed hard, then turned his back and Edward reached for my

hand and we quietly made it to the edge of the pond.

Edward got out first and quickly put his jeans on, then grabbed my clothes and helped me out of
the water and the whole time my mind was working on how everyone was kind of just trying
to…reconcile.

He put my shirt on over my head while I struggled with my shorts over my wet skin and the whole

time Edward had his eyes across the pond on Tyler, who didn‟t turn around once.

I picked up my shoes while Edward jammed his feet in his and he grabbed my hand and I looked
over my shoulder once more at Tyler, who hadn‟t turned around and never meant to hurt anybody.

In the car Edward shook his hair out but never did get around to buttoning his jeans and there
were still droplets of pond water on his eyelashes. I pulled my wet shirt away from my chest and

sighed while he dug in the counsel for a rumpled pack of cigarettes.

“Do you think he‟s crazy?” I asked.

“I think…he got dealt a shitty hand in life. Shoot, I‟d be crazy, too…but he‟s a brave kid. Can‟t hate

him or blame him, I guess.”

“I think my Mama was kind of crazy, too. Not like that…but you know. About all that stuff she did.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Well. I guess…it‟s kind of like the same thing with Tyler,” I said. “I can‟t really blame her or hate
her. She just got dealt a shitty hand, too. I guess sometimes, it‟s just too hard to figure everything
out about yourself, and make all the pieces match up…but I hope that maybe someone can help

Tyler.”

Edward turned his head to me and squinted one eye for half a second before he smiled at me.

“Me too,” he finally said, and stuck a cigarette between his lips and started the car.

Chapter 15.

Four weeks later, Edward, Rosalie and I were in Emmett‟s hospital room playing rummy.

In pairs.

“Anything today?” Rosalie asked, and she let her hand rub up on Emmett‟s toes, covered in that

blue blanket.

We all stared at Emmett‟s feet and the blanket moved a tiny fraction.

“No better than yesterday,” Emmett sighed.

“But that‟s good! It won‟t be overnight, we know that. And you‟re still doing really good; a lot
better every day,” Rosalie said, and her eyebrows were all raised and scrunched up like they had

been for four weeks now.

“You know… it‟s just sick, how it only took a second for it to happen and all this time to get better,”
Emmett said, letting his head fall back on the pillow. His face was back to normal and all of the
wires and tubes were gone now, but his eyes were always much more tired, and most of me knew
he would probably always look like that now. “But I guess… that‟s just the way things happen. I

mean… one second can ruin everything…”

“But you‟ll get better. It just takes a lot of time,” I shrugged. Because I knew that now.

Sometimes it takes a long time to heal, and maybe you never do heal all the way… but if you give
it time, chances are things will get better.

Even good.

Rosalie put her cards down on the flimsy card table and twisted her fingers together.

“Knock it off, Rosie. It wasn‟t your fault,” Emmett said, and he pointed a finger at her, like she‟d

better believe him.

She forced a smile for him, then bit her bottom lip to keep it in place. Emmett scowled at her and

turned, looking at me.

“How‟s Charlie?” Emmett asked, changing the subject, which was dumb- he just saw Charlie hours

ago.

“Fine,” I said. “He doesn‟t charge Sue for anything anymore and she does a whole lot more.”

“They definitely fuck,” Emmett said, raising his eyebrow.

“I know.”

“You okay with that?” he asked.

I shrugged and touched Emmett‟s toes. Two weeks ago I could squeeze them as hard as I wanted
to and he couldn‟t feel it, but I can‟t do that anymore, and that was a very good thing. He could
feel.

“Sue‟s alright. She makes Charlie talk about his day at work and she insisted he help clear the
table the other day. He acts like he hates it, but I think he likes it,” I said.

Emmett nodded and the room went silent again.

“Well. Someone tell me something. I‟m sick of nurse‟s gossip,” Emmett said.

“They caught the guy that put that kid in the creek,” I said.

“You still on that?” Emmett asked.

“Well, it bothered me.”

“I remember.”

“It feels like closure or something,” I shrugged.

Edward shifted at my side and used the edge of his nail to bend all four corners of a four of

diamonds.

“Wanna see my scars?” Emmett asked.

“No,” Rosalie and I said at the same time.

“Sure,” Edward said and stood up to go to the side of the bed.

Emmett lifted the blanket and his gown and I stared at Edward. He looked down and his expression

never wavered from calm when he let a low whistle out.

Rosalie flinched then leaned over to look. She immediately burst into tears.

“Aw, hell, Rosie, you shouldn‟t have looked,” Emmett said and let the blanket drop.

“It‟s awful,” she snorted and wiped the back of her eyes.

“Hey. A fucking car fell on top of me and here I sit, playing cards-- and winning at that. I‟m a hero

or some shit like that. Quit crying. It‟d take a lot more to break me,” he grinned.

I smiled back at him, because it was true. Emmett is the strongest person I know.

Edward plopped in his chair and without even thinking about it, I leaned over and put my fingers in

the back of his hair.

He tensed and my eyes snapped to Emmett.

“What the hell is this?” Emmett asked and his eyes went from Edward to me then back to Edward.

I tipped my chin up and kept my hand on the back of Edward‟s neck.

“It‟s fine and good Emmett,” I said. “It‟s really—“

“You know what? Don‟t ask, don‟t tell. For now. But move your hand. It‟s weird to see.”

“For now?” I asked flatly.

“I can‟t very well get up and kick his ass right now, can I?” Emmett asked.

“It was a sucker punch last time,” Edward said, and he reached back and tugged my hand from his

neck.

“You had it coming,” Emmett said.

“Maybe. But not for the reasons you think,” Edward shrugged.

“Emmett? Okay, look… you know, I‟ve been thinking,” I said, and he stared at me with a very
unamused expression. “You…you didn‟t tell me you wanted to marry Rosalie. And Charlie never
actually says anything about Sue… and me and Edward are… the thing is, Emmett, we‟re all like,
holding each other back, by trying to be there only for each other. You know? And that can‟t be

good. For anybody.”

When I shut up, everyone was staring at me.

“I want to talk to Edward. Alone. Right now,” Emmett finally said.

“Oh, get off it, Emmett,” I said and waved my hand dismissively.

“I don‟t mind,” Edward said.

“I mind,” I said. “Now that I know you‟ll be fine, I don‟t mind pissing you off. You‟re not about to

have a man to man talk about my sex life—“

“Jesus,” Emmett and Edward both uttered and bristled at the same time.

“Well,” I sighed.

“Just… five minutes, Bella. Just go,” Emmett said, and Edward squinted one eye at me and grinned.

“Fine. Nobody threaten anyone. Come on Rosalie. Let‟s go find some Twizzlers or something.”

Twenty minutes later I was on my porch at dusk, curling my toes on the cement stoop and bugging

Edward to tell me what Emmett had said.

“I‟d tell you,” I said.

“You have a big mouth,” Edward said and flicked my ear.

“Just tell me.”

“No.”

“I have a right to know.”

“Believe me, you don‟t,” Edward said, and his mouth kind of turned into a smile.

“What? He‟s concerned about my virginity? He told you he‟d kill you? He asked if you love me?”

“None of the above. Quit bugging me.”

“Edward,” I said and turned to put my bare feet in his lap. “Don‟t keep secrets. It turns into a

disaster for us.”

Edward rolled his eyes and inhaled the cigarette hanging from his lips without even touching it with

his hands.

“He can barely feel his toes, Bella,” he finally said pointedly and looked at me from the corner of

his eye.

“But the feeling is coming back. He‟ll walk again. Besides, what does that have to do with

anything? Don‟t try to change the subject because—“

“Bell. He can‟t shower yet, so the hospital aides give him a sponge bath and something concerned
him.”

“Did they hurt him?” I asked, sitting up.

“No.”

“Oh. Then. So?”

“God. So my father is his doctor and he had a question he didn‟t feel comfortable asking, so he

asked me about it, to see if I could find out.”

“What was the question?” I asked, throwing my hands in the air, now just off-track, confused and

exasperated.

Edward flicked the cigarette out the window and looked at me.

“He wanted to know if he‟ll ever have a hard-on again. Okay?”

“Oh. Oh! Oh, yuck—you shouldn‟t have told me that!”

Edward laughed and put his arm around my neck, then pulled me down so my face was smushed

into his chest while I giggled and tried to pull away.

“Bella,” Edward said, ignoring my struggle, “this whole time, I thought I was just waiting for you to

grow up.”

“Haven‟t I beautifully?” I asked, my voice muffled by his shirt.

“No. And I don‟t think you‟re ever going to.”

He laughed and I twisted and squirmed and slapped at him in the not so bad headlock.

Behind us the screen door banged open and hit the siding of the house. I heard Charlie and Sue‟s

footsteps and Edward said hey to them, but didn‟t let me up.

“We‟re going to have dinner with Emmett,” I heard Charlie say, and I twisted so I could see him
and Sue ahead of us on the sidewalk, under Edward‟s arm. Sue smiled and Charlie stared for half a
second at my restrained predicament. “Nobody in the house,” he finally said, before they walked to

the car.

“It‟s a lovely night, huh Swan?” Edward asked, keeping me in his hold with ease while I laughed

and kept clawing to get out.

“Let me up.”

He looked up at the orange and pink and blue sky and studiously ignored me.

“Edward?”

“What?”

“I really love you.”

“I know it.”

He leaned down and kissed the top of my head and I stopped struggling for a second, and just let
my head rest in his lap.

“Okay. Let me up now.”

“No.”

But he did after a second and when he did, I retaliated and found myself straddling his lap. I
played with the top of his hair, letting my fingers twist in it and stand it up and smooth it down and

do it all over again while he poked my sides and rested his forehead on my neck.

“Uh, Bell?”

“Hmm?”

Edward leaned up and looked over my shoulder.

“Alice Brandon is definitely standing right behind you.”

My fingers froze in his hair and he lifted me off his lap, then I scooted close to his side.

“What do you want?” I asked Alice, glaring up at her. We hadn‟t spoken since we both said awful

things to each other.

“I was real sorry to hear about Emmett. We prayed for him, have every day since, and I heard he‟s

doing a lot better now.”

“That was a month ago, but thanks anyway,” I shrugged.

“Yeah,” Edward interrupted, “I‟m gonna go inside and—“ I grabbed his arm and attempted to hold

him in place.

“Let go,” he grinned at me, yanking his arm back, but I held on tighter. “If she throws a punch I‟ll

come back out,” he said and didn‟t bother to lower his voice.

“Wait, Edward,” Alice said, holding up one palm. “I said awful things about you… and I‟m sorry.”

“No problem,” Edward shrugged and I wanted to hit him.

Alice nodded and smiled at him and I sneered at both of them. Edward got up and patted my head

then walked inside.

“Wow. You guys are like… together.”

“Yep.”

“It looks nice. I‟m happy for you.”

“Alice. You are not,” I sighed.

“Okay. I‟m jealous,” she shrugged.

“I know.”

“Jasper, uh-“

“I know,” I said, nodding to her naked finger.

“Yeah. He went to Texas. Or he said he was going to, anyway. My mom thinks the Devil got to
him.”

“Hah!”

“I know,” Alice said flatly and her shoulders kind of sagged. I scooted over on the porch and Alice

sat next to me so our shoulders were touching.

“I gave Mike Newton a blow job last week.”

“Ew. Why?”

“I didn‟t want to walk home,” Alice said, and then she started to giggle and then I was laughing,

too.

“I was wearing new wedges,” Alice shrugged and choked in between our laughter.

“Oh, Alice.”

“I know.”

“So, do you and Edward…”

“I love him. And I think in the real way…”

“I think he loves you, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Tyler left home. We don‟t know where he is.”

“Shit, Al. I‟m sorry.”

“Yeah. My mom thinks he‟s lost but… maybe he‟s better off.”

“Maybe.”

“I‟d like to see Emmett sometime… if that‟s okay.”

“Sure. Maybe tomorrow.”

“I‟d like that.”

Alice stood up and Edward came back outside.

“See ya,” I said.

“Bye,” Alice called over her shoulder.

Edward sat back down and I took the bottle of Coca-Cola from his hand.

“That girl,” Edward said, nodding toward Alice‟s back, “is gonna be a world of trouble.”

“Probably.”

“Definitely.”

“Well, whatever happens… to any of us, we‟ll all be okay, I think.”

“Me too,” Edward said, and I leaned against him, because the air was getting cooler at night and

the summer was almost over.

I curled my knees to my chest and thought of all the things that happened under the oppressive

heat of the strange days of the summer of 1967.

All of those days seemed to flow into the next and they were all surreal and sometimes horrible,

and sometimes really, really wonderful… and either way, you can‟t stop them.

You just have to open your eyes and try to see clearly and go for the ride, and if you did that—

you‟d turn out to be one of the lucky ones.

Emmett would be okay, I was sure of it.

His injuries made him ineligible for the draft and that‟s when Rosalie finally stopped walking around

with that guilty, worried look on her face all the time.

He‟d walk again, and he‟d go on to marry Rosalie Hale, and they‟d have kids. Four of them. And
they‟d all live in a house in Pine Grove like Alice had wanted to. But it turned out that was a life for

Rosalie and Emmett, not Alice.

No one ever saw or heard from Jasper Whitlock again, including Jessica Stanley, who had his son.

Tyler Brandon would resurface infrequently every so often, but the last anyone had ever seen or
heard from him was in the autumn of 1977. It‟s anyone‟s guess what happened to him, but Edward

and I like to think that he found the love out there somewhere.

Charlie married Sue in the backyard, after Emmett fixed the screen door, and then she was in
charge of the whole bank book and he doesn‟t pay her for anything anymore, but she still made us
dinner and she told me “not to show off or mention to your father” the black lace bra she bought

me.

Edward went away to college, but he came back every summer for skinny dipping and me. We still
whispered on the phone „til midnight most nights, and we made promises we‟d keep forever. Even
when he was gone, he was never really away; I always still had him— and he had me. And
eventually, he even got around to telling me how much he needed me, but I already figured that

out.

In the summer of 1969 when I‟d graduated, he came home and we took a road trip to Bethel, New
York where there was what was supposed to be a small music festival. Alice came with us and
discovered psychedelic trips and love and she didn‟t come home with us. Mrs. Brandon cried and

told most folks Edward and I were influences of the devil.

Mama probably wasn‟t ever going to come back, and maybe someday I‟d see her again, maybe
not. And maybe I‟d get more answers about her, when and if I needed them. But right then, in that
spot in my life, I was loved and I was okay and I could understand how sometimes life isn‟t always

what you think it should be.

And that‟s probably for the best.