Though it was the middle of the afternoon, my call woke Jacob up, and he was grouchy at first. He cheered right up when I asked if I could visit the next day. The Quileute school was already out for the summer, so he told me to come over as early as I could. I was pleased to have an option besides being babysat. There was a tiny bit more dignity in spending the day with Jacob.
Some of that dignity was lost when Edward insisted again on delivering me to the border line like a child being exchanged by custodial guardians.
"So how do you feel you did on your exams?" Edward asked on the way, making small talk.
"History was easy, but I don't know about the Calculus. It seemed like it was making sense, so that probably means I failed."
He laughed. "I'm sure you did fine. Or, if you're really worried, I could bribe Mr. Varner to give you an A."
"Er, thanks, but no thanks."
He laughed again, but suddenly stopped when we turned the last bend and saw the red car waiting. He frowned in concentration, and then, as he parked the car, he sighed.
"What's wrong?" I asked, my hand on the door.
He shook his head. "Nothing." His eyes were narrowed as he stared through the windshield toward the other car. I'd seen that look before.
"You're not listening to Jacob, are you?" I accused.
"It's not easy to ignore someone when he's shouting."
"Oh." I thought about that for a second. "What's he shouting?" I whispered.
"I'm absolutely certain he'll mention it himself," Edward said in a wry tone.
I would have pressed the issue, but then Jacob honked his horn -- two quick impatient honks.
"That's impolite," Edward growled.
"That's Jacob," I sighed, and I hurried out before Jacob did something to really set Edward's teeth on edge.
I waved to Edward before I got into the Rabbit and, from that distance, it looked like he was truly upset about the honking thing . . . or whatever Jacob was thinking about. But my eyes were weak and made mistakes all the time.
I wanted Edward to come to me. I wanted to make both of them get out of their cars and shake hands and be friends -- be Edward and Jacob rather than vampire and werewolf. It was as if I had those two stubborn magnets in my hands again, and I was holding them together, trying to force nature to reverse herself. . . .
I sighed, and climbed in Jacob's car.
"Hey, Bells." Jake's tone was cheerful, but his voice dragged. I examined his face as he started down the road, driving a little faster than I did, but slower than Edward, on his way back to La Push.
Jacob looked different, maybe even sick. His eyelids drooped and his face was drawn. His shaggy hair stuck out in random directions; it was almost to his chin in some places.
"Are you all right, Jake?"
"Just tired," he managed to get out before he was overcome by a massive yawn. When he finished, he asked, "What do you want to do today?"
I eyed him for a moment. "Let's just hang out at your place for now," I suggested. He didn't look like he was up for much more than that. "We can ride our bikes later."
"Sure, sure," he said, yawning again.
Jacob's house was vacant, and that felt strange. I realized I thought of Billy as a nearly permanent fixture there.
"Where's your dad?"
"Over at the Clearwaters'. He's been hanging out there a lot since Harry died. Sue gets lonely."
Jacob sat down on the old couch that was no bigger than a loveseat and squished himself to the side to make room for me.
"Oh. That's nice. Poor Sue."
"Yeah . . . she's having some trouble. . . ." He hesitated. "With her kids."
"Sure, it's got to be hard on Seth and Leah, losing their dad. . . ."
"Uh-huh," he agreed, lost in thought. He picked up the remote and flipped on the TV without seeming to think about it. He yawned.
"What's with you, Jake? You're like a zombie."
"I got about two hours of sleep last night, and four the night before," he told me. He stretched his long arms slowly, and I could hear the joints crack as he flexed. He settled his left arm along the back of the sofa behind me, and slumped back to rest his head against the wall. "I'm exhausted."
"Why aren't you sleeping?" I asked.
He made a face. "Sam's being difficult. He doesn't trust your bloodsuckers. I've been running double shifts for two weeks and nobody's touched me yet, but he still doesn't buy it. So I'm on my own for now."
"Double shifts? Is this because you're trying to watch out for me? Jake, that's wrong! You need to sleep. I'll be fine."
"It's no big deal." His eyes were abruptly more alert. "Hey, did you ever find out who was in your room? Is there anything new?"
I ignored the second question. "No, we didn't find anything out about my, um, visitor."
"Then I'll be around," he said as his eyes slid closed.
"Jake . . . ," I started to whine.
"Hey, it's the least I can do -- I offered eternal servitude, remember. I'm your slave for life."
"I don't want a slave!"
His eyes didn't open. "What do you want, Bella?"
"I want my friend Jacob -- and I don't want him half-dead, hurting himself in some misguided attempt --"
He cut me off. "Look at it this way -- I'm hoping I can track down a vampire I'm allowed to kill, okay?"
I didn't answer. He looked at me then, peeking at my reaction.
"Kidding, Bella."
I stared at the TV.
"So, any special plans next week? You're graduating. Wow. That's big." His voice turned flat, and his face, already drawn, looked downright haggard as his eyes closed again -- not in exhaustion this time, but in denial. I realized that graduation still had a horrible significance for him, though my intentions were now disrupted.
"No special plans," I said carefully, hoping he would hear the reassurance in my words without a more detailed explanation. I didn't want to get into it now. For one thing, he didn't look up for any difficult conversations. For another, I knew he would read too much into my qualms. "Well, I do have to go to a graduation party. Mine." I made a disgusted sound. "Alice loves parties, and she's invited the whole town to her place the night of. It's going to be horrible."
His eyes opened as I spoke, and a relieved smile made his face look less worn. "I didn't get an invitation. I'm hurt," he teased.
"Consider yourself invited. It's supposedly my party, so I should be able to ask who I want."
"Thanks," he said sarcastically, his eyes slipping closed once more.
"I wish you would come," I said without any hope. "It would be more fun. For me, I mean."
"Sure, sure," he mumbled. "That would be very . . . wise . . ." His voice trailed off.
A few seconds later, he was snoring.
Poor Jacob. I studied his dreaming face, and liked what I saw. While he slept, every trace of defensiveness and bitterness disappeared and suddenly he was the boy who had been my very best friend before all the werewolf nonsense had gotten in the way. He looked so much younger. He looked like my Jacob.
I nestled into the couch to wait out his nap, hoping he would sleep for a while and make up some of what he'd lost. I flipped through channels, but there wasn't much on. I settled for a cooking show, knowing, as I watched, that I'd never put that much effort into Charlie's dinner. Jacob continued to snore, getting louder. I turned up the TV.
I was strangely relaxed, almost sleepy, too. This house felt safer than my own, probably because no one had ever come looking for me here. I curled up on the sofa and thought about taking a nap myself. Maybe I would have, but Jacob's snoring was impossible to tune out. So, instead of sleeping, I let my mind wander.
Finals were done, and most of them had been a cakewalk. Calculus, the one exception, was behind me, pass or fail. My high school education was over. And I didn't really know how I felt about that. I couldn't look at it objectively, tied up as it was with my human life being over.
I wondered how long Edward
planned to use this "not because you're scared" excuse. I was going to have to put my foot down sometime.
If I were thinking practically, I knew it made more sense to ask Carlisle to change me the second I made it through the graduation line. Forks was becoming nearly as dangerous as a war zone. No, Forks was a war zone. Not to mention . . . it would be a good excuse to miss the graduation party. I smiled to myself as I thought of that most trivial of reasons for changing. Silly . . . yet still compelling.
But Edward was right -- I wasn't quite ready yet.
And I didn't want to be practical. I wanted Edward to be the one. It wasn't a rational desire. I was sure that -- about two seconds after someone actually bit me and the venom started burning through my veins -- I really wouldn't care anymore who had done it. So it shouldn't make a difference.
It was hard to define, even to myself, why it mattered. There was just something about him being the one to make the choice -- to want to keep me enough that he wouldn't just allow me to be changed, he would act to keep me. It was childish, but I liked the idea that his lips would be the last good thing I would feel. Even more embarrassingly, something I would never say aloud, I wanted his venom to poison my system. It would make me belong to him in a tangible, quantifiable way.
But I knew he was going to stick to his marriage scheme like glue -- because a delay was what he was clearly after and it was working so far. I tried to imagine telling my parents that I was getting married this summer. Telling Angela and Ben and Mike. I couldn't. I couldn't think of the words to say. It would be easier to tell them I was becoming a vampire. And I was sure that at least my mother -- were I to tell her every detail of the truth -- would be more strenuously opposed to me getting married than to me a becoming vampire. I grimaced to myself as I imagined her horrified expression.
Then, for just a second, I saw that same odd vision of Edward and me on a porch swing, wearing clothes from another kind of world. A world where it would surprise no one if I wore his ring on my finger. A simpler place, where love was defined in simpler ways. One plus one equals two. . . .
Jacob snorted and rolled to his side. His arm swung off the back of the couch and pinned me against his body.
Holy crow, but he was heavy! And hot. It was sweltering after just a few seconds.
I tried to slide out from under his arm without waking him, but I had to shove a little bit, and when his arm fell off me, his eyes snapped open. He jumped to his feet, looking around anxiously.
"What? What?" he asked, disoriented.
"It's just me, Jake. Sorry I woke you."
He turned to look at me, blinking and confused. "Bella?"
"Hey, sleepy."
"Oh, man! Did I fall asleep? I'm sorry! How long was I out?"
"A few Emerils. I lost count."
He flopped back on the couch next to me. "Wow. Sorry about that, really."
I patted his hair, trying to smooth the wild disarray. "Don't feel bad. I'm glad you got some sleep."
He yawned and stretched. "I'm useless these days. No wonder Billy's always gone. I'm so boring."
"You're fine," I assured him.
"Ugh, let's go outside. I need to walk around or I'll pass out again."
"Jake, go back to sleep. I'm good. I'll call Edward to come pick me up." I patted my pockets as I spoke, and realized they were empty. "Shoot, I'll have to borrow your phone. I think I must have left his in the car." I started to unfold myself.
"No!" Jacob insisted, grabbing my hand. "No, stay. You hardly ever make it down. I can't believe I wasted all this time."
He pulled me off the couch as he spoke, and then led the way outside, ducking his head as he passed under the doorframe. It had gotten much cooler while Jacob slept; the air was unseasonably cold -- there must be a storm on the way. It felt like February, not May.
The wintry air seemed to make Jacob more alert. He paced back and forth in front of the house for a minute, dragging me along with him.
"I'm an idiot," he muttered to himself.
"What's the matter, Jake? So you fell asleep." I shrugged.
"I wanted to talk to you. I can't believe this."
"Talk to me now," I said.
Jacob met my eyes for a second, and then looked away quickly toward the trees. It almost looked like he was blushing, but it was hard to tell with his dark skin.
I suddenly remembered what Edward had said when he dropped me off -- that Jacob would tell me whatever he was shouting in his head. I started gnawing on my lip.
"Look," Jacob said. "I was planning to do this a little bit differently." He laughed, and it sounded like he was laughing at himself. "Smoother," he added. "I was going to work up to it, but" -- and he looked at the clouds, dimmer as the afternoon progressed -- "I'm out of time to work."
He laughed again, nervous. We were still pacing slowly.
"What are you talking about?" I demanded.
He took a deep breath. "I want to tell you something. And you already know it . . . but I think I should say it out loud anyway. Just so there's never any confusion on the subject."
I planted my feet, and he came to a stop. I took my hand away and folded my arms across my chest. I was suddenly sure that I didn't want to know what he was building up to.
Jacob's eyebrows pulled down, throwing his deep-set eyes into shadow. They were pitch black as they bored into mine.
"I'm in love with you, Bella," Jacob said in a strong, sure voice. "Bella, I love you. And I want you to pick me instead of him. I know you don't feel that way, but I need the truth out there so that you know your options. I wouldn't want a miscommunication to stand in our way."
15. WAGER
I STARED AT HIM FOR A LONG MINUTE, SPEECHLESS. I could not think of one thing to say to him.
As he watched my dumbfounded expression, the seriousness left his face.
"Okay," he said, grinning. "That's all."
"Jake --" It felt like there was something big sticking in my throat. I tried to clear the obstruction. "I can't -- I mean I don't . . . I have to go."
I turned, but he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around.
"No, wait. I know that, Bella. But, look, answer me this, all right? Do you want me to go away and never see you again? Be honest."
It was hard to concentrate on his question, so it took a minute to answer. "No, I don't want that," I finally admitted.
Jacob grinned again. "See."
"But I don't want you around for the same reason that you want me around," I objected.
"Tell me exactly why you want me around, then."
I thought carefully. "I miss you when you're not there. When you're happy," I qualified carefully, "it makes me happy. But I could say the same thing about Charlie, Jacob. You're family. I love you, but I'm not in love with you."
He nodded, unruffled. "But you do want me around."
"Yes." I sighed. He was impossible to discourage.
"Then I'll stick around."
"You're a glutton for punishment," I grumbled.
"Yep." He stroked the tips of his fingers across my right cheek. I slapped his hand away.
"Do you think you could behave yourself a little better, at least?" I asked, irritated.
"No, I don't. You decide, Bella. You can have me the way I am -- bad behavior included -- or not at all."
I stared at him, frustrated. "That's mean."
"So are you."
That pulled me up short, and I took an involuntary step back. He was right. If I wasn't mean -- and greedy, too -- I would tell him I didn't want to be friends and walk away. It was wrong to try to keep my friend when that would hurt him. I didn't know what I was doing here, but I was suddenly sure that it wasn't good.
"You're right," I whispered.
He laughed. "I forgive you. Just try not to get too mad at me. Because I recently decided that I'm not giving up. There really is something irresistible about a lost cause."
"Jacob." I stared into his dark eyes, trying to make him take me seriousl
y. "I love him, Jacob. He's my whole life."
"You love me, too," he reminded me. He held up his hand when I started to protest. "Not the same way, I know. But he's not your whole life, either. Not anymore. Maybe he was once, but he left. And now he's just going to have to deal with the consequence of that choice -- me."
I shook my head. "You're impossible."
Suddenly, he was serious. He took my chin in his hand, holding it firmly so that I couldn't look away from his intent gaze.
"Until your heart stops beating, Bella," he said. "I'll be here -- fighting. Don't forget that you have options."
"I don't want options," I disagreed, trying to yank my chin free unsuccessfully. "And my heartbeats are numbered, Jacob. The time is almost gone."
His eyes narrowed. "All the more reason to fight -- fight harder now, while I can," he whispered.
He still had my chin -- his fingers holding too tight, till it hurt -- and I saw the resolve form abruptly in his eyes.
"N --" I started to object, but it was too late.
His lips crushed mine, stopping my protest. He kissed me angrily, roughly, his other hand gripping tight around the back of my neck, making escape impossible. I shoved against his chest with all my strength, but he didn't even seem to notice. His mouth was soft, despite the anger, his lips molding to mine in a warm, unfamiliar way.
I grabbed at his face, trying to push it away, failing again. He seemed to notice this time, though, and it aggravated him. His lips forced mine open, and I could feel his hot breath in my mouth.
Acting on instinct, I let my hands drop to my side, and shut down. I opened my eyes and didn't fight, didn't feel . . . just waited for him to stop.
It worked. The anger seemed to evaporate, and he pulled back to look at me. He pressed his lips softly to mine again, once, twice . . . a third time. I pretended I was a statue and waited.
Finally, he let go of my face and leaned away.
"Are you done now?" I asked in an expressionless voice.
"Yes," he sighed. He started to smile, closing his eyes.
I pulled my arm back and then let it snap forward, punching him in the mouth with as much power as I could force out of my body.
There was a crunching sound.
"Ow! OW!" I screamed, frantically hopping up and down in agony while I clutched my hand to my chest. It was broken, I could feel it.
Jacob stared at me in shock. "Are you all right?"
"No, dammit! You broke my hand!"
"Bella, you broke your hand. Now stop dancing around and let me look at it."