The Fire of the Sun -- Chapter One
Title: The Fire of the Sun
Author: audreyii_fic
Fandom: Twilight (Team Jacob)
Rating: T
Characters: Full cast (Jacob/Bella, Sam/Emily)
Genre: Romance/Angst/Wolfpack!Humor
Warnings: Language, violence, and references to adult behavior. (Click here for more details.)
banner courtesy of untilwebleedoz
Summary:
Sequel to The Movement of the Earth. Bella finds the cost of joining the supernatural world may be higher than she can pay. ( Click here to start from the beginning.)
Chapter One:
and all it takes to find your feet / is just to stand your ground
The Audreys, "Small Things"
1. Return
The most perfect being in creation stood before my eyes.
He was the very definition of beauty, an angel very nearly beyond human imagining. Everything about him dazzled my senses; his chiseled features, his diamond skin, even his long, graceful fingers. My body yearned to go to him, to feel his cold embrace just one more time.
But something inside me cringed at the worried, pitying look on his flawless face.
"It seems you can't be safe, no matter how many miles I put between us," he murmured, his dulcet tones gentle. "I was a fool to think you could survive on your own."
His words sliced into my heart, reminding me of my unworthiness, my utter inadequacy. I shook my head slowly, shrinking away from the person who had been my whole world. I tripped over my own feet as I pulled back and fell to the ground with an awkward thud. "Don't," I tried to say, but the word stuck in my throat.
"Bella," the angel whispered. I felt myself drawn into the liquid gold of his irises--
--and then the liquid gold turned to bottomless black. Now it was another who stood before me, a video camera in his hand. His expression was considerate, civil, and his smile exposed gleaming white teeth.
He took a step and I heard a sharp crack; pain exploded through my leg as my bones snapped beneath his foot.
"Would you like to rethink your last request?" his friendly voice prompted. He focused the camera on my face. "Wouldn't you rather have him try to find me?"
"No," I croaked. My heart beat wildly in my chest; fear and agony flooded through my veins. "No, don't..."
The vampire crouched in front of me, his onyx eyes burning into mine--
--before the onyxes turned to rubies. The friendly face became female and feline. Fiery curls fell over her ivory cheeks.
"Call him," the lovely creature said, her girlish voice just as kind as her mate's had been. "If you don't, I'll kill you and then rip your wolf into pieces."
My leg still throbbed, but now it was matched by a spasm in my right arm. "Don't, please," I begged, my eyes filling with tears. The horrible pain in my limbs was making it hard to think; the panic welled higher and higher, stealing my breath.
The girl turned from me, prepared to make good on her promise--
--but suddenly there were flames everywhere, and a new injury, worse than all the others, unbearable heat shooting through my left hand--
"Bella..."
--someone was screaming--
"Wake up, Bells, it's okay."
I jerked back into consciousness with a snap, and I hit out with my right hand to ward off my attacker.
There was a dull thud as my cast smacked against something soft.
"Ow! Damn it, Bella!"
Huh?
I blinked as my vision slowly came into focus. My father was sitting on the edge of my bed and holding his cheek. Oh, no. "Sorry, Dad, are you all right?"
Charlie moved his jaw experimentally, wincing. "Think so. Ouch. You never used to hit when you had nightmares."
I worked myself into an upright position. Not the easiest maneuver when you can't use your hands, but I was getting pretty good at it. "I guess that's what I do now," I said evasively. I glanced quickly at the alarm clock; six-twenty-three AM. At least it wasn't the middle of the night. "Sorry if I woke you up."
Charlie was silent for a long moment. His pale skin practically glowed in the darkness. He'd apologized to me once for passing on his near-albino coloring, but it didn't bother me so much these days. I had bigger things to worry about than my complexion. "You were saying 'don't', Bella," he said quietly.
My heart sank. "I was dreaming about my hand," I lied, holding up my left arm. It was still covered in gauze from fingertips to forearm. "Sometimes I bump it when I'm sleeping, and it hurts, and... I have bad dreams. No big deal."
Charlie looked like he didn't believe me. That wasn't surprising; despite how often I'd needed to fake or fudge or flat out hide the truth, I'd never gotten good at it. He started to say, "Bells..."
...but then he trailed off. Apparently he didn't know how to finish the sentence.
I couldn't meet his eyes, so I studied the needlework on my comforter instead.
Finally Charlie let out an frustrated exhale and shook his head. "Okay." He stood up. "No point in going back to bed. I'm going to make some coffee. What do you want for breakfast?"
"Tortilla chips." That wasn't exactly breakfast food, but they were something I could manage on my own. Only having use of your right thumb and index finger didn't leave you with a lot of culinary options, and I refused to be spoonfed.
"Do you need any help getting ready for school?"
"No, I'll be fine. Thanks, though."
My dad nodded curtly, not looking at me as he left my bedroom and quietly closed the door behind him.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
Charlie had heard me saying Don't in my dreams... and I knew what he thought that meant.
The official story of my burned hand was that I'd fallen into a bonfire at a party. But I was a terrible liar, and Charlie was a cop; he could tell there was more to the story. And there was. Much, much more.
The truth was that I'd burned my hand setting fire to a vampire. And I'd done it in order to protect a werewolf.
Unfortunately, that was a secret -- a big one. So all Charlie had been left with was the knowledge that I'd been severely injured while hanging out on the Quileute reservation with a group of people he believed to be members of a dangerous gang. That, combined with how strangely I'd been acting recently, how withdrawn I'd been, how distraught... he could only come to the conclusion that the "gang" had done terrible things to me. But he couldn't do anything about it because I wouldn't give him any details.
Charlie was heartbroken that I wouldn't confide in him. I was heartbroken that he was heartbroken. A bad situation all around.
It didn't make a difference how strained my relationship with my father was, though; the secrets I was keeping weren't mine to share. I hated hurting Charlie, but I had people who trusted me to keep silent, people I needed to protect.
People like Jacob Black. Aforementioned Quileute gang member-slash-werewolf... and apparent contortionist.
I leaned over the side of my bed. "I can't believe you fit under there," I whispered.
"I don't," came an answering hiss. "Your box spring is scraping the hell out of my back."
"Well, the coast is clear."
The mattress shuddered and shook as two-hundred-and-sixty pounds of teenage boy wiggled out from under the bed. "At least your dad knocks," he grumbled quietly as he stood, stretching his ridiculously tall frame with a series of sickening cracks. "Billy just bursts in whenever he feels like it."
"I think it's a father-daughter thing." When Jacob had his arms over his head his wrists brushed the ceiling. I glanced down at the crack between the box spring and the floor. It couldn't be more than eighteen inches high. "Seriously, how did you do that?"
"My legs were sticking out the other side. Charlie almost stepped on my feet." Jake grinned at me. "Good thing it's dark in here, 'cause getting shot would be a lousy start to the day."
I flinched at the mental image. "Not funny," I muttered.
Jacob was teasing, but not nearly as much as one would hope. If Chief of Police Swan found out that someone had been coming through his daughter's window almost every night for the last three weeks, he might very well go for his shotgun. Jake's rapid healing would keep such an injury from being fatal, but it would still be unpleasant. And it would sort of give away the whole 'the Quileute gang is actually a pack of werewolves' thing.
Not to mention... while Jacob would never do anything on purpose, something like that could trigger him to phase -- that is, transform into a wolf the size of a grizzly. Then he might lash out instinctively, without thinking of who he was about to strike down with his enormous claws.
The idea of Charlie shooting Jacob, or Jacob tearing Charlie apart...
I started to shake.
"Hey, hey." Hot hands pulled me into an embrace, being careful to avoid my injuries; hundred-plus degree lips pressed softly against my forehead. "S'all right, honey," Jacob whispered as he sat down next to me. "Bad joke. Sorry."
"Yeah, it was." I took a few deep breaths, and my momentary anxiety faded -- along with the last vestiges of unease from my nightmare. In Jacob's arms I was never afraid. Instead I felt calmer, safer; not because Jacob would protect me -- though I knew he would -- but because I felt more... solid, like I could protect myself. Myself, and anyone else I wished to. My insecurities faded under his touch.
I pressed myself closer to his warm, muscled chest, and his hold tightened.
Within a minute I felt better enough to lighten the mood. "No gun shot wounds, all right? All that blood would destroy my bedspread."
"Oh, well, I wouldn't want to wreck your girly stuff." Jake gave me another squeeze, then pulled back a little. His hands moved to feel the lines of my cheeks; he always needed to go for that last caress. "Sorry about the nightmare," he said, a shadow of guilt in his tone. "I didn't wake up in time and then I heard your dad's door open--"
"It's fine," I assured him. "You can't stop them all."
Jacob scowled at that.
While my bad dreams weren't constant, they were relatively commonplace. If Jacob was there, though, it only took a few strokes of his hand along my stomach and a whispered word or two of comfort before my nightmare was banished. Often I didn't even wake up.
His ability to stop my subconscious in its tracks might've been natural. But I knew -- we both knew -- that it was almost certainly a gift of the imprint.
The imprint, which was always in the middle of everything.
"I've got to go, honey," Jake said regretfully, glancing at the clock. "The guys'll be wondering where I am."
I couldn't hold back the tiniest smile. "Come on. The guys know exactly where you are."
He snickered. "True."
"And they're not just 'the guys' anymore," I added. "That's unfair. Think of Leah." Leah Clearwater -- one of the newest members of the werewolf pack and the only female -- was having a hard enough time without being referred to as 'one of the guys.' That wasn't something any girl liked to hear.
Jacob scowled again. "Believe me, Bells, I think of Leah. We all think of Leah."
"Oh. Right." The soap opera going down in the pack right now was reportedly epic. "But either way... don't worry about it. If you have to leave, you have to leave."
"Yeah." Jacob sighed as he removed his hands from my face. "Don't want to, though."
I didn't want him to either, but I didn't say it out loud. It was hard enough for him to leave me at all. The fact that I had been upset moments earlier made it worse, so if I told him not to go, then that would be it -- he'd stay. He'd stay even though we both knew he had responsibilities elsewhere and that, in the grand scheme of things, I really could take care of myself. He didn't want to leave my side and I had to make sure I didn't make it more difficult for him to do so.
I had to be careful -- very careful -- not to accidentally use the enormous, unfair, entirely imbalanced power I held over him. Another gift of the imprint.
"I'll be fine," I said. "Aside from my chemistry test." An entirely different shiver of fear ran up my spine; I was definitely going to flunk. Luckily I'd probably still pull a D in the course...
"Can't do much about that one unless your teacher is allergic to dogs."
I rolled my eyes. "Funny."
"I thought so."
"Mm-hmm." I gave his shoulder a gentle shove with my cast. "Go on, before Sam sends someone to collect you again." That had been awful. Sam, as the Pack's Alpha, could order the other wolves to do almost anything... except stay away from their imprints. But Sam did have the power to send Quil and Embry over to my house at three in the morning and make pests of themselves until Jacob came back. Thank God Charlie thought it was prankster kids who'd been out in the woods singing 'That's Amore' at the top of their lungs.
"Yeah, all right." Jacob stood unwillingly, and I resisted the urge to lean forward and lay my cheek against the russet skin of his bare abdomen. He definitely wouldn't leave then... and things would get awkward in a hurry. "I'll be back tonight. Don't know when, though."
"Okay." That was standard operating procedure for Jake. The time and duration of his visits were always in flux. "I'll see you then."
Jacob hesitated again, an open, longing, intense look in his eyes. Then he leaned down -- it was a long way -- and kissed the curve of my jaw, just next to my ear. "Love you, Bells," he murmured against my skin.
A warming blush spread over my face, and a little thrill ran through my body. "Be careful," I whispered.
I felt him smile. He never seemed to mind that I couldn't say it back... not yet, anyway. I'd been loose and free with those words before, and it had come back to haunt me in the worst ways. I couldn't bring myself to speak them again until I had no doubt in my mind of what they meant.
Because I did love Jacob, but that love was so, so complicated. It still frightened me.
Another kiss to my cheek, then one to my forehead, and Jacob disappeared out my second-story window without a sound.
As always, his absence left a shiver of cold across my skin -- though the cold was nothing like what it used to be. The cold had been nearly unbearable only weeks ago. Back when Jake and I were still fighting the imprint... and nearly shook ourselves into pieces doing so.
With a sigh, I rolled out of bed and started the difficult process of dressing with the use of only two fingers.
When Jacob -- sweet, sunny Jacob -- had turned into a werewolf, he'd gotten all the burdens that came with it: the temper, the Alpha control, the responsibility of protecting his tribal lands against vampires. But by far the worst burden of the lot was the imprint.
Imprinting was the way that werewolves found their soul mates. No one was entirely sure how it worked, but once a wolf laid eyes on the girl he was supposed to be with -- supposed to, for some unknown greater purpose -- he was bound to her eternally. The bind was stronger than chains, fiercer than any conventional love. She became everything. She was the first thing on his mind when he woke up and the last thought in his head as he went to sleep. He had to cede to her demands as surely as if she was his Alpha. With her he was at his strongest, able to protect and defend the way he was meant to. Without her... he couldn't even think straight.
The girl felt effects, too. If she -- or he -- resisted the imprint, her body temperature would begin to drop, her biology demanding that she seek out the unique hundred-and-eight degree warmth of her wolf. She became anxious in her abandonment. She needed him as much as he needed her.
And neither imprint nor imprinted had any choice in the matter. It was absolute. Unbreakable. Written in stone.
I was Jacob's imprint.
We both hated it.
I managed to wriggle into my pants -- elastic, which was horrifying, but I couldn't button jeans one-handed -- and hung my shirt on a closet hook, preparing to slip into it from underneath.
The idea that I was Jacob's soul mate didn't faze me at all, mind. We were best friends before any of this had happened... best friends and, after awhile, would probably have become something more. Jake had devoted himself to being annoyingly persistent, and eventually I would surely have recovered from the emotional trauma I'd suffered. I'd already felt things for Jacob and he'd felt plenty for me. It would only have been a matter of time. Life would have been normal. The progression would have been natural.
But the imprint had forced the issue, leaving us tied together before we were anywhere near ready for that step. And now our relationship -- which had once been as easy as breathing -- was full of uncertainty. We were both slowly finding our way through it -- no longer fighting the imprint flat out, but rather trying to work with it -- but what we felt for each other was turbulent and multi-layered and impossible to define, except to say that it was incredibly strong.
Socks. Socks were difficult. Socks required pointed toes and a lot of flexibility.
Sometimes it was easy. Jacob's touch was still the most natural thing in the world to me, the same as it had been before. The soothed, healed feeling that overcame me whenever we hugged or he stroked my skin -- that was one hundred percent us, I was sure of it. Then there were the other touches, ones that burned more than warmed. Those felt natural too.
And the single kiss we'd shared was on an entirely different level... I'd felt myself catching fire...
...but it hadn't been repeated. We'd never even spoken of it. So things between us still stood in a strange, line-blurred sort of limbo, somewhere between best friends and something more and the imprint, always the imprint.
Embarrassingly enough, I was going to have to ask my father for help with my hair.
***
The ride to school was quiet. Charlie had completely rearranged his schedule so that he could drive me in every morning and pick me up every afternoon. Part of this was practical; with one hand burnt and the other in a cast I certainly couldn't drive myself, even if my beloved truck hadn't been nearly totaled in a car crash. The bigger reason for the special treatment, though, was that Charlie wanted to keep an eye on me.
I tried to remember that my father was only worried about my safety -- and given the last several weeks, his worry was pretty justified -- but getting dropped off on the front steps of Forks High in a police cruiser in front of everyone... well, sometimes it felt more like punishment than protection.
"I'll be here at three, Bells," Charlie said as I awkwardly shifted my backpack onto my shoulder. He had the faintest shadow of a bruise across his cheekbone from my half-conscious assault. "I have to go back to work after that, though, and I'll be late. Do you want me to pick up some dinner for you?"
"Sure. Something healthy," I added quickly. "For both of us."
Charlie snorted; he wasn't happy that I was still on a health food kick after Harry Clearwater's premature death of a heart attack. But I'd stood just as firm as he had. Neither Jacob Black nor pork chops were allowed in the house.
Hopefully Charlie wasn't hiding pork chops under his bed.
I opened the passenger's door with my thumb, prepared to step out into the ever-present mist of Forks. My father cleared his throat, and I paused. "Uh, Bells... has he come back yet?"
He.
I bit my lip, making a hard effort to hold down the nervous fluttering in my stomach. "No," I said. "Maybe he isn't going to. Maybe he's finishing up the year home-schooling or something."
"Right." I suspected Charlie would like to pretend as though he didn't exist, but I knew he was in even more fear of his reappearance than I was. "Well, have a good day," he said gruffly.
"You too. Thanks for the ride."
As I walked into the science building, prepared to face my chemistry fate, I forced myself not to look at the parking lot. Not because I didn't want to know; because I was afraid of how I would feel if I knew.
I was scared that if I saw a silver Volvo, my heart would leap for joy instead of cringe in terror.
***
The element abbreviations swam in front of my tired eyes. Which solution will change red litmus to blue?
I tapped my index finger against NaCl -- sodium chloride.
Mike Newton, my friend and volunteer pencil-handler for chemistry class, nodded as he scribbled... except he circled NaOH instead of NaCl. Sodium hydroxide. "I know what you meant to point at," he said under his breath.
I sighed.
Only a few months ago, I would've indignantly demanded that Mike change the answer back to the incorrect one and let me take the rightful markdown. It was cheating, after all. Now, though... I was feeling a lot more flexible in my standards, and I accepted Mike's 'help' without protest. I needed to pass this class if I wanted to graduate on time. And it wasn't like I was planning to become a chemist anyway.
I didn't know what I was planning to become.
Given the equation: H+ + OH- <-> H2O, which type of reaction does the equation represent?
I pointed at exterification.
Mike circled neutralization.
Damn.
***
"You guys aren't going to believe this," Jessica Stanley said without introduction as she plopped down at the cafeteria table. Her grin was so huge her face almost couldn't contain it; for a moment I thought she might vibrate out of her chair with excitement. "Cornell's giving me a scholarship!"
Angela Weber -- the closest thing I had to a best friend at Forks High -- nearly choked on her soda. Her boyfriend, Ben Cheney, whacked her back as her eyes watered. "Seriously? That's great!"
Jessica nodded, eyes bright. "Not a full ride, but it's still huge. Can you imagine? God, it's going to be so good not to be in debt 'til I'm, like, eighty."
Mike reached across the table and gave Jessica a high-five. "No shock," he said warmly. "You're a lock for valedictorian. Of course they'd bend over backwards to get you." Even though Jessica and Mike's on-again off-again relationship was in 'off' mode right now, it was a friendly off period. That made life easier on everyone. "Congrats, you earned it."
"Thanks," she said. Her answering smile was a little coy. Oh. Maybe we were closer to 'on' mode than I'd realized.
I swallowed a bite of carrot stick and piped up, "That's really wonderful, Jessica. Congratulations."
Jessica blinked in surprise; face was wary as she nodded. "Thanks, Bella."
A twinge of envy settled into my stomach. My nearly comatose depression last fall -- and accompanying indifference to school -- had cost me any chance at challenging her for valedictorian. Combined with the thoroughly distracting spring I'd had -- one did not do much homework when one was caught up in the supernatural world -- and, well... no one would be offering me any scholarships.
But it certainly wasn't Jessica's fault that my grades had fallen apart. This was a huge deal for her, and it would be mean to wreck it with jealousy. I needed to be pleasant.
"So," I continued, trying not to sound too awkward, "what are you planning to study at Cornell? Most of their programs are supposed to be really great, I hear."
My effort to be friendly seemed to make Jessica suspicious. "Pre-law," she answered after a pause. "I think maybe a double major in criminology, if there's room in the courses. It's really competitive, but if I'm going to be a defense attorney--"
"You'll make it," I assured her. Okay, I was flattering a little, but not much. For all her apparent ditziness, Jessica was crazy smart. Her SAT scores had become something of a legend. "And you'll be a great lawyer. When you talk, everyone listens."
"No one can help it," Angela added good-naturedly. I smiled at her, grateful; I suspected she was trying to help me out.
Jessica grinned again. "It's my commanding presence," she said with false haughtiness. "And the breasts."
We laughed -- even though I blushed as I did. And Mike took a quick, appreciative glance down at her shirt. No question, we were clearly closer to 'on' mode. Hopefully it would stay 'on' through graduation, otherwise the ceremony would get really uncomfortable--
Wait.
In an instant I felt a prickle crawl along the back of my neck. Like I was full of static electricity and only needed the smallest touch to be painfully shocked.
Angela glanced over my shoulder, her eyebrows rising abruptly. Jessica looked too and her mouth dropped open in shock.
Oh, no.
I wasn't ready for this. Weeks of expectation and preparation and steeling myself before walking into school each morning had done nothing. I wasn't ready.
"Well," Jessica said, clearly stunned, "look who's back."
Don't look. Don't look. Don't look.
I looked.
Behind me -- only thirty feet away -- were three very familiar figures. Members of a family who'd abandoned me out of concern for my safety, vanishing overnight and leaving me a shell of my former self for months. All three were staring with warm, topaz eyes, exquisitely graceful even in something as simple as taking a seat at a cafeteria table.
The tall, honey-blond Jasper. He nodded politely.
The tiny, pixie-featured Alice, who beamed and gave me an excited little wave.
And him.
It was the perfect features that had haunted my dreams for so long; the angel face that I'd seen mere weeks ago. He'd shimmered in the moonlight and called to me in a hypnotic voice.
The vampire who'd held every piece of my heart and mind, broken them for my own good, then returned claiming to never have forsaken me.
His lips curled into a slightly sad version of his dazzling crooked smile, and my heart stuttered in my chest.
Edward Cullen.
"Whoa, you okay?" Mike's concerned voice snapped me back into reality, and I realized my cast was rattling against the table as my body shook. "You're breathing, right?"
No, I wasn't. I'd forgotten. At his reminder I took a few deep lungfuls of air... and caught the tiniest scent of that intoxicating, alluring aroma that only belonged to--
"Ladies' room," Angela said quickly. She stood up and grabbed me by the elbow, lifting me to my feet. "Come on, Bella."
Ben gave her an odd look. "Why are you--"
"Female stuff," Jessica interrupted him, leaping from her seat just as fast. "The estrogen needs to consult pronto. No boys allowed."
Mike and Ben's eyes met, and as one they shrugged, clearly conveying one universal message -- Girls are weird.
In less time than it took to blink -- or at least it felt that way -- I was standing in the grungy hall bathroom, trying not to hyperventilate as Jessica checked under each stall to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "We're clear," she said briskly. "I guess you didn't know they were coming back, huh."
I shook my head, swallowing. My chest was going to collapse in on itself. Too much too much too much. "No. I mean, yes. Kind of."
Angela had started rubbing my back; her touch wasn't the one I was suddenly craving, but it felt soothing nonetheless. "Kind of?"
One breath in, one breath out. Two breaths. Three. "I knew they were in town. I... I saw Edward for a few minutes about two weeks ago. And Alice before that. I thought they might come back to school but then they didn't so I was thinking that maybe they wouldn't and--"
Jessica dug in her handbag, then pulled out a little tin of mints. "Here," she said. "Take one." At my confused look, she rattled the tin slightly. "Take it. They work."
I pinched a tiny white mint between my free fingers and popped it into my mouth. The sudden peppery explosion burned my nostrils and made my eyes water. "Wow, that's strong," I managed to say, my tongue partially numb.
Jessica looked smug. "I know, right? Shocks you free of panic, like, instantly. They're perfect for guy-related freakouts." All awkwardness between us had been set aside for the moment; boy issues apparently trumped petty personal concerns. "What happened when you talked to him? What did he say exactly? Every little detail counts. I mean, if he said I missed you, did he put the emphasis on 'I' instead of 'you'--"
"He said he still loves me." The words were hard to form, but against all odds Jessica's mint had done the trick. The panic had receded and my mind felt clearer. I definitely needed a tin of my own. "He said he still loves me and he wants me back."
He'd said lots of other stuff too, like how he was going to 'protect' me from my friends whether I liked it or not, but that wasn't something I could share. Besides, threats between the vampire coven and werewolf tribe weren't exactly relevant to the conversation.
Angela and Jessica blinked. "Whoa," Jessica said. "That's... unusually direct."
"Do you want him back?" Angela asked.
I could barely get my voice above a whisper. "I... I'm not sure."
"You definitely shouldn't," Jessica said flatly. "I mean, the guy dumps you and wanders off to Whereeversville, then just shows up expecting you to be, like, waiting with open arms? The hell with that. When Mike tried it I slashed his tires." At Angela's look, Jessica admitted, "Okay, I only let the air out. But it's the principle of the thing. And anyhow--" she turned back to me "--aren't you with that Quileute kid or something? Mike said--"
"That's complicated," I interrupted quickly. "Really, really complicated. Jacob and I are in kind of a strange place right now." Though strange place or not, Jacob definitely had... opinions... on whether or not I should resume my relationship with Edward Cullen. Very loud opinions. "Look, I don't... I don't want to take Edward back." It felt impossible that I was saying that, but it was the truth. "Except when I see him, it's just..."
Edward. For so many months he'd been a shadow in my mind, but now he was here again in the flesh -- so to speak. He was out there right now. I knew that if I chose to I could walk right back into the cafeteria, open my arms to him, and it would be as though we had never been apart for a single minute. Everything would be like it had been before--
Angela and Jessica were wearing identical sympathetic looks. "I know just what you mean," Angela said.
The problem was, they didn't.
I shivered.
The power that Edward held over me was more than just simple sadness for a lost love. Part of it was supernatural in nature. Vampires were hunters first and foremost, designed to placate their victims -- even though the Cullens only fed on animals. His beauty, his voice, his scent... though I'd denied it to myself for so long, I realized now that much of what I'd felt for Edward was a result of his mystic draw. How much, I didn't know.
He's like a drug for you, isn't he, Jacob had whispered as he'd kissed away my tears. He does something to your head.
If I let Edward back in, I'd be more than just a girl who'd fallen for the charms of her ex. I'd be a junkie looking for her next fix.
And I longed for his marble embrace anyway.
My heart -- my soul -- burned with humiliation at my weakness. I choked back a sob.
The pressure of Angela's hand on my back increased. Jessica ducked into one of the lime-green stalls and grabbed a handful of toilet paper. "Here," she said. She frowned at my incapacitated hands, then shrugged and patted the scratchy tissue against my cheeks. "Don't make your face puffy. Sure, he's gorgeous, but he's totally not worth all this. No guy is."
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch period. In a few moments the bathroom would be filled with girls refreshing their eyeliner and reapplying their lipstick. I wanted to be out of here before that happened.
But what if Edward -- or Jasper, or Alice -- was waiting for me in one of my classes?
I swallowed hard. "Please," I begged Angela and Jessica, "please don't let me do anything stupid, all right? I don't want to--"
"Don't worry," Angela said reassuringly. "We won't."
"Throwing yourself at the feet of the ex is the worst." Jessica shivered in a theatric fashion. "Ugh. So embarrassing. Won't let it happen."
I wasn't surprised to hear that Angela was willing to help me... but I found myself looking at Jessica incredulously. "Thanks," I said, stunned at her kindness.
When I'd first arrived in Forks over a year ago, Jessica and I had been friends... or something close to it. Her bubbly, outgoing personality really didn't mesh that well with my more introverted one, but we'd been on good terms, especially once she and Mike began dating and his crush on me had lessened. But she hadn't been as willing to forgive the neglect I'd shown her during my months of self-imposed seclusion as everyone else had been.
Jessica wavered, frowning. "I'm still mad at you," she said finally. "You ignored me for months and then just called me up out of nowhere to hang out and then ditched me again. I know when I'm being used, Bella Swan, and that was not cool."
There was no way to deny it. That was exactly what I'd done.
"But," she added as the first few chattering girls came in, "the sisterhood's gotta stick together in times of crisis, you know? That's just the way it works. Chicks before dicks." She glanced at Angela for confirmation. Angela nodded firmly.
I blushed.
***
Jessica and Angela took their duties very seriously. For the next three hours one or the other was always at my side. Jessica took over from Eric as my pencil-handler during Algebra, gossiping lightly to keep me distracted from the fact that Jasper was sitting in the back row. Angela slid into the empty desk next to me in English Lit, which stopped Alice from claiming the seat. The injured expression on Alice's ethereal face haunted me through the discussion of Great Expectations, but whenever I tried to look in her direction Angela poked me in the arm with a pencil. The sisterhood apparently was binding.
There was no sign of Edward.
At last the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. After a quick thank you to the girls, I practically flew to the parking lot. For the first time I was ecstatic to see Charlie's police cruiser waiting for me. I could go home, I could collect myself, I'd have time to better prepare for tomorrow--
Alice darted in front of me.
I stopped breathing. Maybe it was self-defense.
"Bella!" she said fretfully, her voice ringing like wind chimes the way it always did. "Bella, what's wrong?"
Should I take a breath to calm myself? Or would that pull her sweet, drugging scent into my lungs? "Hi, Alice," I said.
"You're avoiding me." She sounded hurt. "Are we not friends anymore?"
Guilt flooded my body in a heavy rush. I was terrible. What right did I have to cause her pain? What kind of a person was I?
No. Stop it.
"I... I don't see how we can be, Alice," I said with difficulty. Her face fell, and I fought to keep my eyes from filling with tears. "I just... things are too hard. You can't just come back and--"
"I didn't want to leave," she said miserably. "I told Edward it was a bad idea to go, I told him this would happen, but he didn't listen--"
"But you did go." I squeezed my eyes shut, cutting off at least one of my senses. Hearing and smell was bad enough. And, frighteningly enough, Alice was so much easier to resist than him... "A lot of stuff has happened since then, and... I know now, okay? I know about the... effect you all have."
There was a long silence before Alice spoke again. "Edward never hid that from you." Her tone was disapproving, and that wave of shame hit me again. "None of us lied about it. We never pretended otherwise."
But I forgot. I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't understand when he was so close and amazing and dazzling and mine and I was so in love... My excuses seemed feeble, even in my own head. "It doesn't matter," I said instead. "Things can't be the way they were before."
I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince her or myself.
"Alice," a new voice said, tinged with a purring Southern accent. I opened my eyes; Jasper stood further down the sidewalk, his impassive expression unreadable. "It's time to leave." His golden eyes flicked quickly towards the cruiser.
Charlie had gotten out. His face was red.
"I have to go," I said quickly.
"But--"
"I'll see you tomorrow." The words came out of my mouth automatically as Jasper took Alice's hand and pulled her away. I knew I would see her. There was no question at all.
Further down the parking lot, inside the painfully familiar silver Volvo, I could see a shadow behind the wheel. A shadow with bronze hair.
I'd see him, too.
It took a few moments before I was collected enough to walk forward and get into the cruiser. If I hadn't waited I would probably have tripped over my own feet and damaged my hands in the fall. Charlie opened the passenger door for me, then got in wordlessly.
"So," he said as I gingerly buckled my seat belt. His voice was strained. "They're back."
I nodded. "Yeah. They're back."
And I still had four weeks to go until graduation.
***
Chapter Two: Message
Sanity Update: How does one distinguish Bella-voice from Meyer-voice? How does an author keep the former (for character continuity) but reject the latter? I have no idea what the answer to that question is. All I can do is write the way I wrote Bella FPOV before -- except with better grammar and less ridiculous word choice -- and pray to God that character development makes it at least a little less mind-numbing than the original saga. I have no idea if I'm succeeding. I fucking hope so. I can't help the fact that Bella likes the word murmur. (And yes, I'm mixing in a bit of Anna Kendrick's Jessica. Because she's awesome and surrounding myself with awesomeness will be better for my sanity. Why do you think I write so much Charlie?)
Updated to add: gypseian 's podfic of this chapter is available here for listening and/or download.
Author: audreyii_fic
Fandom: Twilight (Team Jacob)
Rating: T
Characters: Full cast (Jacob/Bella, Sam/Emily)
Genre: Romance/Angst/Wolfpack!Humor
Warnings: Language, violence, and references to adult behavior. (Click here for more details.)
banner courtesy of untilwebleedoz
Summary:
Sequel to The Movement of the Earth. Bella finds the cost of joining the supernatural world may be higher than she can pay. ( Click here to start from the beginning.)
Chapter One:
and all it takes to find your feet / is just to stand your ground
The Audreys, "Small Things"
1. Return
The most perfect being in creation stood before my eyes.
He was the very definition of beauty, an angel very nearly beyond human imagining. Everything about him dazzled my senses; his chiseled features, his diamond skin, even his long, graceful fingers. My body yearned to go to him, to feel his cold embrace just one more time.
But something inside me cringed at the worried, pitying look on his flawless face.
"It seems you can't be safe, no matter how many miles I put between us," he murmured, his dulcet tones gentle. "I was a fool to think you could survive on your own."
His words sliced into my heart, reminding me of my unworthiness, my utter inadequacy. I shook my head slowly, shrinking away from the person who had been my whole world. I tripped over my own feet as I pulled back and fell to the ground with an awkward thud. "Don't," I tried to say, but the word stuck in my throat.
"Bella," the angel whispered. I felt myself drawn into the liquid gold of his irises--
--and then the liquid gold turned to bottomless black. Now it was another who stood before me, a video camera in his hand. His expression was considerate, civil, and his smile exposed gleaming white teeth.
He took a step and I heard a sharp crack; pain exploded through my leg as my bones snapped beneath his foot.
"Would you like to rethink your last request?" his friendly voice prompted. He focused the camera on my face. "Wouldn't you rather have him try to find me?"
"No," I croaked. My heart beat wildly in my chest; fear and agony flooded through my veins. "No, don't..."
The vampire crouched in front of me, his onyx eyes burning into mine--
--before the onyxes turned to rubies. The friendly face became female and feline. Fiery curls fell over her ivory cheeks.
"Call him," the lovely creature said, her girlish voice just as kind as her mate's had been. "If you don't, I'll kill you and then rip your wolf into pieces."
My leg still throbbed, but now it was matched by a spasm in my right arm. "Don't, please," I begged, my eyes filling with tears. The horrible pain in my limbs was making it hard to think; the panic welled higher and higher, stealing my breath.
The girl turned from me, prepared to make good on her promise--
--but suddenly there were flames everywhere, and a new injury, worse than all the others, unbearable heat shooting through my left hand--
"Bella..."
--someone was screaming--
"Wake up, Bells, it's okay."
I jerked back into consciousness with a snap, and I hit out with my right hand to ward off my attacker.
There was a dull thud as my cast smacked against something soft.
"Ow! Damn it, Bella!"
Huh?
I blinked as my vision slowly came into focus. My father was sitting on the edge of my bed and holding his cheek. Oh, no. "Sorry, Dad, are you all right?"
Charlie moved his jaw experimentally, wincing. "Think so. Ouch. You never used to hit when you had nightmares."
I worked myself into an upright position. Not the easiest maneuver when you can't use your hands, but I was getting pretty good at it. "I guess that's what I do now," I said evasively. I glanced quickly at the alarm clock; six-twenty-three AM. At least it wasn't the middle of the night. "Sorry if I woke you up."
Charlie was silent for a long moment. His pale skin practically glowed in the darkness. He'd apologized to me once for passing on his near-albino coloring, but it didn't bother me so much these days. I had bigger things to worry about than my complexion. "You were saying 'don't', Bella," he said quietly.
My heart sank. "I was dreaming about my hand," I lied, holding up my left arm. It was still covered in gauze from fingertips to forearm. "Sometimes I bump it when I'm sleeping, and it hurts, and... I have bad dreams. No big deal."
Charlie looked like he didn't believe me. That wasn't surprising; despite how often I'd needed to fake or fudge or flat out hide the truth, I'd never gotten good at it. He started to say, "Bells..."
...but then he trailed off. Apparently he didn't know how to finish the sentence.
I couldn't meet his eyes, so I studied the needlework on my comforter instead.
Finally Charlie let out an frustrated exhale and shook his head. "Okay." He stood up. "No point in going back to bed. I'm going to make some coffee. What do you want for breakfast?"
"Tortilla chips." That wasn't exactly breakfast food, but they were something I could manage on my own. Only having use of your right thumb and index finger didn't leave you with a lot of culinary options, and I refused to be spoonfed.
"Do you need any help getting ready for school?"
"No, I'll be fine. Thanks, though."
My dad nodded curtly, not looking at me as he left my bedroom and quietly closed the door behind him.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat.
Charlie had heard me saying Don't in my dreams... and I knew what he thought that meant.
The official story of my burned hand was that I'd fallen into a bonfire at a party. But I was a terrible liar, and Charlie was a cop; he could tell there was more to the story. And there was. Much, much more.
The truth was that I'd burned my hand setting fire to a vampire. And I'd done it in order to protect a werewolf.
Unfortunately, that was a secret -- a big one. So all Charlie had been left with was the knowledge that I'd been severely injured while hanging out on the Quileute reservation with a group of people he believed to be members of a dangerous gang. That, combined with how strangely I'd been acting recently, how withdrawn I'd been, how distraught... he could only come to the conclusion that the "gang" had done terrible things to me. But he couldn't do anything about it because I wouldn't give him any details.
Charlie was heartbroken that I wouldn't confide in him. I was heartbroken that he was heartbroken. A bad situation all around.
It didn't make a difference how strained my relationship with my father was, though; the secrets I was keeping weren't mine to share. I hated hurting Charlie, but I had people who trusted me to keep silent, people I needed to protect.
People like Jacob Black. Aforementioned Quileute gang member-slash-werewolf... and apparent contortionist.
I leaned over the side of my bed. "I can't believe you fit under there," I whispered.
"I don't," came an answering hiss. "Your box spring is scraping the hell out of my back."
"Well, the coast is clear."
The mattress shuddered and shook as two-hundred-and-sixty pounds of teenage boy wiggled out from under the bed. "At least your dad knocks," he grumbled quietly as he stood, stretching his ridiculously tall frame with a series of sickening cracks. "Billy just bursts in whenever he feels like it."
"I think it's a father-daughter thing." When Jacob had his arms over his head his wrists brushed the ceiling. I glanced down at the crack between the box spring and the floor. It couldn't be more than eighteen inches high. "Seriously, how did you do that?"
"My legs were sticking out the other side. Charlie almost stepped on my feet." Jake grinned at me. "Good thing it's dark in here, 'cause getting shot would be a lousy start to the day."
I flinched at the mental image. "Not funny," I muttered.
Jacob was teasing, but not nearly as much as one would hope. If Chief of Police Swan found out that someone had been coming through his daughter's window almost every night for the last three weeks, he might very well go for his shotgun. Jake's rapid healing would keep such an injury from being fatal, but it would still be unpleasant. And it would sort of give away the whole 'the Quileute gang is actually a pack of werewolves' thing.
Not to mention... while Jacob would never do anything on purpose, something like that could trigger him to phase -- that is, transform into a wolf the size of a grizzly. Then he might lash out instinctively, without thinking of who he was about to strike down with his enormous claws.
The idea of Charlie shooting Jacob, or Jacob tearing Charlie apart...
I started to shake.
"Hey, hey." Hot hands pulled me into an embrace, being careful to avoid my injuries; hundred-plus degree lips pressed softly against my forehead. "S'all right, honey," Jacob whispered as he sat down next to me. "Bad joke. Sorry."
"Yeah, it was." I took a few deep breaths, and my momentary anxiety faded -- along with the last vestiges of unease from my nightmare. In Jacob's arms I was never afraid. Instead I felt calmer, safer; not because Jacob would protect me -- though I knew he would -- but because I felt more... solid, like I could protect myself. Myself, and anyone else I wished to. My insecurities faded under his touch.
I pressed myself closer to his warm, muscled chest, and his hold tightened.
Within a minute I felt better enough to lighten the mood. "No gun shot wounds, all right? All that blood would destroy my bedspread."
"Oh, well, I wouldn't want to wreck your girly stuff." Jake gave me another squeeze, then pulled back a little. His hands moved to feel the lines of my cheeks; he always needed to go for that last caress. "Sorry about the nightmare," he said, a shadow of guilt in his tone. "I didn't wake up in time and then I heard your dad's door open--"
"It's fine," I assured him. "You can't stop them all."
Jacob scowled at that.
While my bad dreams weren't constant, they were relatively commonplace. If Jacob was there, though, it only took a few strokes of his hand along my stomach and a whispered word or two of comfort before my nightmare was banished. Often I didn't even wake up.
His ability to stop my subconscious in its tracks might've been natural. But I knew -- we both knew -- that it was almost certainly a gift of the imprint.
The imprint, which was always in the middle of everything.
"I've got to go, honey," Jake said regretfully, glancing at the clock. "The guys'll be wondering where I am."
I couldn't hold back the tiniest smile. "Come on. The guys know exactly where you are."
He snickered. "True."
"And they're not just 'the guys' anymore," I added. "That's unfair. Think of Leah." Leah Clearwater -- one of the newest members of the werewolf pack and the only female -- was having a hard enough time without being referred to as 'one of the guys.' That wasn't something any girl liked to hear.
Jacob scowled again. "Believe me, Bells, I think of Leah. We all think of Leah."
"Oh. Right." The soap opera going down in the pack right now was reportedly epic. "But either way... don't worry about it. If you have to leave, you have to leave."
"Yeah." Jacob sighed as he removed his hands from my face. "Don't want to, though."
I didn't want him to either, but I didn't say it out loud. It was hard enough for him to leave me at all. The fact that I had been upset moments earlier made it worse, so if I told him not to go, then that would be it -- he'd stay. He'd stay even though we both knew he had responsibilities elsewhere and that, in the grand scheme of things, I really could take care of myself. He didn't want to leave my side and I had to make sure I didn't make it more difficult for him to do so.
I had to be careful -- very careful -- not to accidentally use the enormous, unfair, entirely imbalanced power I held over him. Another gift of the imprint.
"I'll be fine," I said. "Aside from my chemistry test." An entirely different shiver of fear ran up my spine; I was definitely going to flunk. Luckily I'd probably still pull a D in the course...
"Can't do much about that one unless your teacher is allergic to dogs."
I rolled my eyes. "Funny."
"I thought so."
"Mm-hmm." I gave his shoulder a gentle shove with my cast. "Go on, before Sam sends someone to collect you again." That had been awful. Sam, as the Pack's Alpha, could order the other wolves to do almost anything... except stay away from their imprints. But Sam did have the power to send Quil and Embry over to my house at three in the morning and make pests of themselves until Jacob came back. Thank God Charlie thought it was prankster kids who'd been out in the woods singing 'That's Amore' at the top of their lungs.
"Yeah, all right." Jacob stood unwillingly, and I resisted the urge to lean forward and lay my cheek against the russet skin of his bare abdomen. He definitely wouldn't leave then... and things would get awkward in a hurry. "I'll be back tonight. Don't know when, though."
"Okay." That was standard operating procedure for Jake. The time and duration of his visits were always in flux. "I'll see you then."
Jacob hesitated again, an open, longing, intense look in his eyes. Then he leaned down -- it was a long way -- and kissed the curve of my jaw, just next to my ear. "Love you, Bells," he murmured against my skin.
A warming blush spread over my face, and a little thrill ran through my body. "Be careful," I whispered.
I felt him smile. He never seemed to mind that I couldn't say it back... not yet, anyway. I'd been loose and free with those words before, and it had come back to haunt me in the worst ways. I couldn't bring myself to speak them again until I had no doubt in my mind of what they meant.
Because I did love Jacob, but that love was so, so complicated. It still frightened me.
Another kiss to my cheek, then one to my forehead, and Jacob disappeared out my second-story window without a sound.
As always, his absence left a shiver of cold across my skin -- though the cold was nothing like what it used to be. The cold had been nearly unbearable only weeks ago. Back when Jake and I were still fighting the imprint... and nearly shook ourselves into pieces doing so.
With a sigh, I rolled out of bed and started the difficult process of dressing with the use of only two fingers.
When Jacob -- sweet, sunny Jacob -- had turned into a werewolf, he'd gotten all the burdens that came with it: the temper, the Alpha control, the responsibility of protecting his tribal lands against vampires. But by far the worst burden of the lot was the imprint.
Imprinting was the way that werewolves found their soul mates. No one was entirely sure how it worked, but once a wolf laid eyes on the girl he was supposed to be with -- supposed to, for some unknown greater purpose -- he was bound to her eternally. The bind was stronger than chains, fiercer than any conventional love. She became everything. She was the first thing on his mind when he woke up and the last thought in his head as he went to sleep. He had to cede to her demands as surely as if she was his Alpha. With her he was at his strongest, able to protect and defend the way he was meant to. Without her... he couldn't even think straight.
The girl felt effects, too. If she -- or he -- resisted the imprint, her body temperature would begin to drop, her biology demanding that she seek out the unique hundred-and-eight degree warmth of her wolf. She became anxious in her abandonment. She needed him as much as he needed her.
And neither imprint nor imprinted had any choice in the matter. It was absolute. Unbreakable. Written in stone.
I was Jacob's imprint.
We both hated it.
I managed to wriggle into my pants -- elastic, which was horrifying, but I couldn't button jeans one-handed -- and hung my shirt on a closet hook, preparing to slip into it from underneath.
The idea that I was Jacob's soul mate didn't faze me at all, mind. We were best friends before any of this had happened... best friends and, after awhile, would probably have become something more. Jake had devoted himself to being annoyingly persistent, and eventually I would surely have recovered from the emotional trauma I'd suffered. I'd already felt things for Jacob and he'd felt plenty for me. It would only have been a matter of time. Life would have been normal. The progression would have been natural.
But the imprint had forced the issue, leaving us tied together before we were anywhere near ready for that step. And now our relationship -- which had once been as easy as breathing -- was full of uncertainty. We were both slowly finding our way through it -- no longer fighting the imprint flat out, but rather trying to work with it -- but what we felt for each other was turbulent and multi-layered and impossible to define, except to say that it was incredibly strong.
Socks. Socks were difficult. Socks required pointed toes and a lot of flexibility.
Sometimes it was easy. Jacob's touch was still the most natural thing in the world to me, the same as it had been before. The soothed, healed feeling that overcame me whenever we hugged or he stroked my skin -- that was one hundred percent us, I was sure of it. Then there were the other touches, ones that burned more than warmed. Those felt natural too.
And the single kiss we'd shared was on an entirely different level... I'd felt myself catching fire...
...but it hadn't been repeated. We'd never even spoken of it. So things between us still stood in a strange, line-blurred sort of limbo, somewhere between best friends and something more and the imprint, always the imprint.
Embarrassingly enough, I was going to have to ask my father for help with my hair.
***
The ride to school was quiet. Charlie had completely rearranged his schedule so that he could drive me in every morning and pick me up every afternoon. Part of this was practical; with one hand burnt and the other in a cast I certainly couldn't drive myself, even if my beloved truck hadn't been nearly totaled in a car crash. The bigger reason for the special treatment, though, was that Charlie wanted to keep an eye on me.
I tried to remember that my father was only worried about my safety -- and given the last several weeks, his worry was pretty justified -- but getting dropped off on the front steps of Forks High in a police cruiser in front of everyone... well, sometimes it felt more like punishment than protection.
"I'll be here at three, Bells," Charlie said as I awkwardly shifted my backpack onto my shoulder. He had the faintest shadow of a bruise across his cheekbone from my half-conscious assault. "I have to go back to work after that, though, and I'll be late. Do you want me to pick up some dinner for you?"
"Sure. Something healthy," I added quickly. "For both of us."
Charlie snorted; he wasn't happy that I was still on a health food kick after Harry Clearwater's premature death of a heart attack. But I'd stood just as firm as he had. Neither Jacob Black nor pork chops were allowed in the house.
Hopefully Charlie wasn't hiding pork chops under his bed.
I opened the passenger's door with my thumb, prepared to step out into the ever-present mist of Forks. My father cleared his throat, and I paused. "Uh, Bells... has he come back yet?"
He.
I bit my lip, making a hard effort to hold down the nervous fluttering in my stomach. "No," I said. "Maybe he isn't going to. Maybe he's finishing up the year home-schooling or something."
"Right." I suspected Charlie would like to pretend as though he didn't exist, but I knew he was in even more fear of his reappearance than I was. "Well, have a good day," he said gruffly.
"You too. Thanks for the ride."
As I walked into the science building, prepared to face my chemistry fate, I forced myself not to look at the parking lot. Not because I didn't want to know; because I was afraid of how I would feel if I knew.
I was scared that if I saw a silver Volvo, my heart would leap for joy instead of cringe in terror.
***
The element abbreviations swam in front of my tired eyes. Which solution will change red litmus to blue?
I tapped my index finger against NaCl -- sodium chloride.
Mike Newton, my friend and volunteer pencil-handler for chemistry class, nodded as he scribbled... except he circled NaOH instead of NaCl. Sodium hydroxide. "I know what you meant to point at," he said under his breath.
I sighed.
Only a few months ago, I would've indignantly demanded that Mike change the answer back to the incorrect one and let me take the rightful markdown. It was cheating, after all. Now, though... I was feeling a lot more flexible in my standards, and I accepted Mike's 'help' without protest. I needed to pass this class if I wanted to graduate on time. And it wasn't like I was planning to become a chemist anyway.
I didn't know what I was planning to become.
Given the equation: H+ + OH- <-> H2O, which type of reaction does the equation represent?
I pointed at exterification.
Mike circled neutralization.
Damn.
***
"You guys aren't going to believe this," Jessica Stanley said without introduction as she plopped down at the cafeteria table. Her grin was so huge her face almost couldn't contain it; for a moment I thought she might vibrate out of her chair with excitement. "Cornell's giving me a scholarship!"
Angela Weber -- the closest thing I had to a best friend at Forks High -- nearly choked on her soda. Her boyfriend, Ben Cheney, whacked her back as her eyes watered. "Seriously? That's great!"
Jessica nodded, eyes bright. "Not a full ride, but it's still huge. Can you imagine? God, it's going to be so good not to be in debt 'til I'm, like, eighty."
Mike reached across the table and gave Jessica a high-five. "No shock," he said warmly. "You're a lock for valedictorian. Of course they'd bend over backwards to get you." Even though Jessica and Mike's on-again off-again relationship was in 'off' mode right now, it was a friendly off period. That made life easier on everyone. "Congrats, you earned it."
"Thanks," she said. Her answering smile was a little coy. Oh. Maybe we were closer to 'on' mode than I'd realized.
I swallowed a bite of carrot stick and piped up, "That's really wonderful, Jessica. Congratulations."
Jessica blinked in surprise; face was wary as she nodded. "Thanks, Bella."
A twinge of envy settled into my stomach. My nearly comatose depression last fall -- and accompanying indifference to school -- had cost me any chance at challenging her for valedictorian. Combined with the thoroughly distracting spring I'd had -- one did not do much homework when one was caught up in the supernatural world -- and, well... no one would be offering me any scholarships.
But it certainly wasn't Jessica's fault that my grades had fallen apart. This was a huge deal for her, and it would be mean to wreck it with jealousy. I needed to be pleasant.
"So," I continued, trying not to sound too awkward, "what are you planning to study at Cornell? Most of their programs are supposed to be really great, I hear."
My effort to be friendly seemed to make Jessica suspicious. "Pre-law," she answered after a pause. "I think maybe a double major in criminology, if there's room in the courses. It's really competitive, but if I'm going to be a defense attorney--"
"You'll make it," I assured her. Okay, I was flattering a little, but not much. For all her apparent ditziness, Jessica was crazy smart. Her SAT scores had become something of a legend. "And you'll be a great lawyer. When you talk, everyone listens."
"No one can help it," Angela added good-naturedly. I smiled at her, grateful; I suspected she was trying to help me out.
Jessica grinned again. "It's my commanding presence," she said with false haughtiness. "And the breasts."
We laughed -- even though I blushed as I did. And Mike took a quick, appreciative glance down at her shirt. No question, we were clearly closer to 'on' mode. Hopefully it would stay 'on' through graduation, otherwise the ceremony would get really uncomfortable--
Wait.
In an instant I felt a prickle crawl along the back of my neck. Like I was full of static electricity and only needed the smallest touch to be painfully shocked.
Angela glanced over my shoulder, her eyebrows rising abruptly. Jessica looked too and her mouth dropped open in shock.
Oh, no.
I wasn't ready for this. Weeks of expectation and preparation and steeling myself before walking into school each morning had done nothing. I wasn't ready.
"Well," Jessica said, clearly stunned, "look who's back."
Don't look. Don't look. Don't look.
I looked.
Behind me -- only thirty feet away -- were three very familiar figures. Members of a family who'd abandoned me out of concern for my safety, vanishing overnight and leaving me a shell of my former self for months. All three were staring with warm, topaz eyes, exquisitely graceful even in something as simple as taking a seat at a cafeteria table.
The tall, honey-blond Jasper. He nodded politely.
The tiny, pixie-featured Alice, who beamed and gave me an excited little wave.
And him.
It was the perfect features that had haunted my dreams for so long; the angel face that I'd seen mere weeks ago. He'd shimmered in the moonlight and called to me in a hypnotic voice.
The vampire who'd held every piece of my heart and mind, broken them for my own good, then returned claiming to never have forsaken me.
His lips curled into a slightly sad version of his dazzling crooked smile, and my heart stuttered in my chest.
Edward Cullen.
"Whoa, you okay?" Mike's concerned voice snapped me back into reality, and I realized my cast was rattling against the table as my body shook. "You're breathing, right?"
No, I wasn't. I'd forgotten. At his reminder I took a few deep lungfuls of air... and caught the tiniest scent of that intoxicating, alluring aroma that only belonged to--
"Ladies' room," Angela said quickly. She stood up and grabbed me by the elbow, lifting me to my feet. "Come on, Bella."
Ben gave her an odd look. "Why are you--"
"Female stuff," Jessica interrupted him, leaping from her seat just as fast. "The estrogen needs to consult pronto. No boys allowed."
Mike and Ben's eyes met, and as one they shrugged, clearly conveying one universal message -- Girls are weird.
In less time than it took to blink -- or at least it felt that way -- I was standing in the grungy hall bathroom, trying not to hyperventilate as Jessica checked under each stall to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "We're clear," she said briskly. "I guess you didn't know they were coming back, huh."
I shook my head, swallowing. My chest was going to collapse in on itself. Too much too much too much. "No. I mean, yes. Kind of."
Angela had started rubbing my back; her touch wasn't the one I was suddenly craving, but it felt soothing nonetheless. "Kind of?"
One breath in, one breath out. Two breaths. Three. "I knew they were in town. I... I saw Edward for a few minutes about two weeks ago. And Alice before that. I thought they might come back to school but then they didn't so I was thinking that maybe they wouldn't and--"
Jessica dug in her handbag, then pulled out a little tin of mints. "Here," she said. "Take one." At my confused look, she rattled the tin slightly. "Take it. They work."
I pinched a tiny white mint between my free fingers and popped it into my mouth. The sudden peppery explosion burned my nostrils and made my eyes water. "Wow, that's strong," I managed to say, my tongue partially numb.
Jessica looked smug. "I know, right? Shocks you free of panic, like, instantly. They're perfect for guy-related freakouts." All awkwardness between us had been set aside for the moment; boy issues apparently trumped petty personal concerns. "What happened when you talked to him? What did he say exactly? Every little detail counts. I mean, if he said I missed you, did he put the emphasis on 'I' instead of 'you'--"
"He said he still loves me." The words were hard to form, but against all odds Jessica's mint had done the trick. The panic had receded and my mind felt clearer. I definitely needed a tin of my own. "He said he still loves me and he wants me back."
He'd said lots of other stuff too, like how he was going to 'protect' me from my friends whether I liked it or not, but that wasn't something I could share. Besides, threats between the vampire coven and werewolf tribe weren't exactly relevant to the conversation.
Angela and Jessica blinked. "Whoa," Jessica said. "That's... unusually direct."
"Do you want him back?" Angela asked.
I could barely get my voice above a whisper. "I... I'm not sure."
"You definitely shouldn't," Jessica said flatly. "I mean, the guy dumps you and wanders off to Whereeversville, then just shows up expecting you to be, like, waiting with open arms? The hell with that. When Mike tried it I slashed his tires." At Angela's look, Jessica admitted, "Okay, I only let the air out. But it's the principle of the thing. And anyhow--" she turned back to me "--aren't you with that Quileute kid or something? Mike said--"
"That's complicated," I interrupted quickly. "Really, really complicated. Jacob and I are in kind of a strange place right now." Though strange place or not, Jacob definitely had... opinions... on whether or not I should resume my relationship with Edward Cullen. Very loud opinions. "Look, I don't... I don't want to take Edward back." It felt impossible that I was saying that, but it was the truth. "Except when I see him, it's just..."
Edward. For so many months he'd been a shadow in my mind, but now he was here again in the flesh -- so to speak. He was out there right now. I knew that if I chose to I could walk right back into the cafeteria, open my arms to him, and it would be as though we had never been apart for a single minute. Everything would be like it had been before--
Angela and Jessica were wearing identical sympathetic looks. "I know just what you mean," Angela said.
The problem was, they didn't.
I shivered.
The power that Edward held over me was more than just simple sadness for a lost love. Part of it was supernatural in nature. Vampires were hunters first and foremost, designed to placate their victims -- even though the Cullens only fed on animals. His beauty, his voice, his scent... though I'd denied it to myself for so long, I realized now that much of what I'd felt for Edward was a result of his mystic draw. How much, I didn't know.
He's like a drug for you, isn't he, Jacob had whispered as he'd kissed away my tears. He does something to your head.
If I let Edward back in, I'd be more than just a girl who'd fallen for the charms of her ex. I'd be a junkie looking for her next fix.
And I longed for his marble embrace anyway.
My heart -- my soul -- burned with humiliation at my weakness. I choked back a sob.
The pressure of Angela's hand on my back increased. Jessica ducked into one of the lime-green stalls and grabbed a handful of toilet paper. "Here," she said. She frowned at my incapacitated hands, then shrugged and patted the scratchy tissue against my cheeks. "Don't make your face puffy. Sure, he's gorgeous, but he's totally not worth all this. No guy is."
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch period. In a few moments the bathroom would be filled with girls refreshing their eyeliner and reapplying their lipstick. I wanted to be out of here before that happened.
But what if Edward -- or Jasper, or Alice -- was waiting for me in one of my classes?
I swallowed hard. "Please," I begged Angela and Jessica, "please don't let me do anything stupid, all right? I don't want to--"
"Don't worry," Angela said reassuringly. "We won't."
"Throwing yourself at the feet of the ex is the worst." Jessica shivered in a theatric fashion. "Ugh. So embarrassing. Won't let it happen."
I wasn't surprised to hear that Angela was willing to help me... but I found myself looking at Jessica incredulously. "Thanks," I said, stunned at her kindness.
When I'd first arrived in Forks over a year ago, Jessica and I had been friends... or something close to it. Her bubbly, outgoing personality really didn't mesh that well with my more introverted one, but we'd been on good terms, especially once she and Mike began dating and his crush on me had lessened. But she hadn't been as willing to forgive the neglect I'd shown her during my months of self-imposed seclusion as everyone else had been.
Jessica wavered, frowning. "I'm still mad at you," she said finally. "You ignored me for months and then just called me up out of nowhere to hang out and then ditched me again. I know when I'm being used, Bella Swan, and that was not cool."
There was no way to deny it. That was exactly what I'd done.
"But," she added as the first few chattering girls came in, "the sisterhood's gotta stick together in times of crisis, you know? That's just the way it works. Chicks before dicks." She glanced at Angela for confirmation. Angela nodded firmly.
I blushed.
***
Jessica and Angela took their duties very seriously. For the next three hours one or the other was always at my side. Jessica took over from Eric as my pencil-handler during Algebra, gossiping lightly to keep me distracted from the fact that Jasper was sitting in the back row. Angela slid into the empty desk next to me in English Lit, which stopped Alice from claiming the seat. The injured expression on Alice's ethereal face haunted me through the discussion of Great Expectations, but whenever I tried to look in her direction Angela poked me in the arm with a pencil. The sisterhood apparently was binding.
There was no sign of Edward.
At last the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. After a quick thank you to the girls, I practically flew to the parking lot. For the first time I was ecstatic to see Charlie's police cruiser waiting for me. I could go home, I could collect myself, I'd have time to better prepare for tomorrow--
Alice darted in front of me.
I stopped breathing. Maybe it was self-defense.
"Bella!" she said fretfully, her voice ringing like wind chimes the way it always did. "Bella, what's wrong?"
Should I take a breath to calm myself? Or would that pull her sweet, drugging scent into my lungs? "Hi, Alice," I said.
"You're avoiding me." She sounded hurt. "Are we not friends anymore?"
Guilt flooded my body in a heavy rush. I was terrible. What right did I have to cause her pain? What kind of a person was I?
No. Stop it.
"I... I don't see how we can be, Alice," I said with difficulty. Her face fell, and I fought to keep my eyes from filling with tears. "I just... things are too hard. You can't just come back and--"
"I didn't want to leave," she said miserably. "I told Edward it was a bad idea to go, I told him this would happen, but he didn't listen--"
"But you did go." I squeezed my eyes shut, cutting off at least one of my senses. Hearing and smell was bad enough. And, frighteningly enough, Alice was so much easier to resist than him... "A lot of stuff has happened since then, and... I know now, okay? I know about the... effect you all have."
There was a long silence before Alice spoke again. "Edward never hid that from you." Her tone was disapproving, and that wave of shame hit me again. "None of us lied about it. We never pretended otherwise."
But I forgot. I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't understand when he was so close and amazing and dazzling and mine and I was so in love... My excuses seemed feeble, even in my own head. "It doesn't matter," I said instead. "Things can't be the way they were before."
I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince her or myself.
"Alice," a new voice said, tinged with a purring Southern accent. I opened my eyes; Jasper stood further down the sidewalk, his impassive expression unreadable. "It's time to leave." His golden eyes flicked quickly towards the cruiser.
Charlie had gotten out. His face was red.
"I have to go," I said quickly.
"But--"
"I'll see you tomorrow." The words came out of my mouth automatically as Jasper took Alice's hand and pulled her away. I knew I would see her. There was no question at all.
Further down the parking lot, inside the painfully familiar silver Volvo, I could see a shadow behind the wheel. A shadow with bronze hair.
I'd see him, too.
It took a few moments before I was collected enough to walk forward and get into the cruiser. If I hadn't waited I would probably have tripped over my own feet and damaged my hands in the fall. Charlie opened the passenger door for me, then got in wordlessly.
"So," he said as I gingerly buckled my seat belt. His voice was strained. "They're back."
I nodded. "Yeah. They're back."
And I still had four weeks to go until graduation.
***
Chapter Two: Message
Sanity Update: How does one distinguish Bella-voice from Meyer-voice? How does an author keep the former (for character continuity) but reject the latter? I have no idea what the answer to that question is. All I can do is write the way I wrote Bella FPOV before -- except with better grammar and less ridiculous word choice -- and pray to God that character development makes it at least a little less mind-numbing than the original saga. I have no idea if I'm succeeding. I fucking hope so. I can't help the fact that Bella likes the word murmur. (And yes, I'm mixing in a bit of Anna Kendrick's Jessica. Because she's awesome and surrounding myself with awesomeness will be better for my sanity. Why do you think I write so much Charlie?)
Updated to add: gypseian 's podfic of this chapter is available here for listening and/or download.