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IN JANUARY CHARLIE REACHED HIS limit when it came to Bella's current situation and behaviour. It was the morning before school, winter break had already come to a close and they'd entered their new school semester. This term Bailey's one class was in the morning and so unlike before she had to wake up in the morning with the rest of her family—something that she had been dreading for the past two weeks. So that morning Bailey had lugged herself out of bed, stretched out her body, and begun her morning routine at what felt like the crack of dawn. Upon arriving downstairs, she had her eyes glued to a book she had recently checked out of the library, a book on the Quileute legends and history.
In the kitchen, Bella was staring down at a bowl of cereal, pondering rather than eating it while Charlie was looking at her intensively. Bailey walked past the two, not sparing them a glance as she opened the fridge and decided to make herself some eggs and toast.
Bailey cooked her eggs while simultaneously flipping through the page of her book when Charlie's fist came down on the table making a sudden loud noise; Bailey jumped.
"Sorry, Bailey," Charlie apologized. Bailey just nodded and went back to her eggs and book. "Bella, that's it. I'm sending you home."
His words caught Bailey's intrigue, she turned her body so that she could still check on her eggs while watching the developing conversation between her sister and her father.
Bella was looking at Charlie in shock.
"I am home," she mumbled, confused.
"I'm sending you to Renee, to Jacksonville," he clarified.
Charlie watched with exasperation as Bella slowly grasped the meaning of his words.
"What did I do?" She felt her face crumple. Bella thought it was unfair. Her behaviour had been above reproach for the past four months. After that first week, which no one mentioned; she hadn't missed a day of school or work. She was getting good grades. She never broke curfew—she never went anywhere from which to break curfew in the first place.
Charlie was scowling. "You didn't do anything. That's the problem. You never do anything."
"You want me to get into trouble?" Bella wondered, her eyebrows pulling together in mystification. She made an effort to pay attention. It wasn't easy. She was so used to tuning everything out, that her ears felt stopped up.
"Trouble would be better than this... this moping around all the time!"
That stung a bit. She'd been careful to avoid all forms of moroseness, moping included.
"I am not moping around."
"Wrong word," he grudgingly conceded. "Moping would be better—that would be doing something. You're just... lifeless, Bella. I think that's the word I want."
This accusation struck home. Bella sighed and tried to put some animation into her response. "I'm sorry, Dad." Her apology sounded a little flat, even to her. Bella thought she'd been fooling him. Keeping Charlie and Bailey from suffering was the point of all this effort. How depressing to think that effort had been wasted.
"I don't want you to apologize."
Bella sighed. "Then tell me what you do want me to do."
"Bella," he hesitated, scrutinizing her reaction to his next words. "Honey, you're not the first person to go through this kind of thing, you know."
"I know that." Bella's accompanying grimace was limp and unimpressive.
"Listen, honey. I think that—that maybe you need some help."
"Help?"
Bailey placed her scrambled eggs on a plate just as her toast was ready. She decided to just stand there by the kitchen counter, eating her breakfast and continuing to witness Bella and Charlie's conversation. It was very informative. Bailey had taken note that Bella seemed unaware of just how distant she was behaving from before and how her change had been clear to those around her. Furthermore, Bailey was clinging to Charlie's words—"trouble would be better than this" and "I don't want you to apologize" were statements that had stuck with Bailey the most.
Charlie paused, searching for the words again. "When your mother left," he began, frowning, "and she took you girls with her." He inhaled deeply. "Well, that was a really bad time for me."
"I know, Dad," Bella mumbled.
"But I handled it," he pointed out. "Honey, you're not handling it. I waited, I hoped it would get better." He stared at Bella and she looked down quickly. "I think we both know it's not getting better."
"I'm fine."
"That's a lie," Bailey chimed in. Bella glanced at her, as Bailey took a bite out of her toast.
"Maybe, well, maybe if you talked to someone about it. A professional?" Charlie suggested.
"You want me to see a shrink?" Bella's voice was a shade sharper as she realized what he was getting at.
"Maybe it would help."
"And maybe it wouldn't help one little bit." Bella didn't know much about psychoanalysis, but she was pretty sure it didn't work unless the subject was relatively honest. Sure, she could tell the truth—if she wanted to spend the rest of her life in a padded cell.
Charlie examined her obstinate expression and switched to another line of attack.
"It's beyond me, Bella. Maybe your mother—"
"Look," Bella said in a flat voice. "I'll go out tonight if you want. I'll call Jess or Angela."
"That not what I want," he argued, frustrated. "I don't think I can live through seeing you try harder. I've never seen anyone try so hard. It hurts to watch."
Bella pretended to be dense, looking down at the table. "I don't understand, Dad. First, you're mad because I'm not doing anything, and then you say you don't want me to go out."
Bailey nodded at Bella's comment as she looked at Charlie. From her perspective, his instructions were quite unclear. She thought that he was contradicting himself—she hadn't fully grasped what he was trying to achieve or point out.
"I want you to be happy—no, not even that much. I just want you not to be miserable. I think you'll have a better chance if you get out of Forks."
Bella's eyes flashed up with the first small spark of feeling she'd had in too long to contemplate.
"I'm not leaving," she said.
"Why not?" he demanded.
"I'm in my last semester of school—it would screw everything up."
"You're a good student—you'll figure it out."
"Bailey needs me."
"She's been handling herself quite well these past months."
Bailey nodded in agreement with Charlie's words.
"Florida is too hot."
Charlie's fist came down on the table again, softer than before so that the noise wasn't as loud. "We both know what's really going on here, Bella, and it's not good for you." He took a deep breath. "It's been months. No calls, no letters, no contract. You can't keep waiting for him."
Bella glowered at him. The heat almost, but not quite, reached her face. It had been a long time since she'd blushed with any emotion. The whole subject was utterly forbidden, as he was well aware.
"I'm not waiting for anything. I don't expect anything," Bella said in a low monotone.
"Bella—" Charlie began, his voice thick.
"I have to get to school," Bella interrupted, standing up and taking her untouched breakfast from the table. Bailey stepped aside as Bella dumped her bowl in the sink without pausing to wash it out; she couldn't deal with any more conversation.
"I'll make plans with Jessica," Bella called over her shoulder as she strapped on her school bag not meeting his eyes. "Maybe I won't be home for dinner. We'll go to Port Angeles and watch a movie."
She was out the front door before he could react. Bailey was not far behind as she was on her ride to school.
"Do you resent him for leaving?" Bailey asked curiously as Bella started the truck.
"What?" Bella's response was sharp.
"I think that would be the appropriate response," She munched on the toast-egg taco she had made for herself to bring the last of her breakfast outside with her. It wasn't really a taco, just a piece of toast Bailey had folded and stuffed the rest of the scrambled eggs inside. "His absence has caused your drastic change. They all left rather abruptly after forcing themselves into our lives. Granted you did pine after Edward quite a bit in the beginning but in all fairness, he reciprocated knowing the risks and dangers. He mutually chose to put all of that aside—"
"What are you trying to say, Bailey? Why are you bringing this up?" Bella grumbled. This was not a topic she wanted to talk about, hence why she had just run out on Charlie.
"I want to understand," Bailey admitted honestly. "Maybe if you resented him instead of still holding him in high regard, well, maybe that would be healthier? Maybe that would make things better for you?"
"I don't want to talk about this."
Bailey exhaled disappointed by Bella's response but did not press for further clarification. "Okay. But there's something else I don't quite understand."
"What?"
"What does it mean when someone chooses to call you by the name of a mythological creature?"
While at a stop sign Bella took the time to look at Bailey with raised eyebrows showcasing her confusion.
"Uh, I don't think I understand your question."
Bailey pressed her lips together, rubbing in her strawberry lip balm. "Instead of using your name said person addresses you with the name of a creature."
"What creature?" Bella asked.
Bailey paused for a brief moment. "Angel."
Bella's eyes widened slightly at this. She had so many questions, the first being 'who had called her younger sister and angel' and 'what were their intentions?'
"Uh, well, it's a nickname."
"But my nickname is already 'Bails'," Bailey stated matter of factly. "Although, I don't exactly like it very much."
"It's more like a pet name—you know like 'sweetheart' or 'honey.' Something cute to call a person that you like. It's more endearing than just using their name."
"So it's a good thing?"
"Depending on the situation. If it's from someone you reciprocate feelings for then sure. But, like, if it's coming from someone who you don't have that type of relationship with it can be uncomfortable."
Bailey nodded taking in this new information. She leaned back in her seat and looked out of the window silently, this signalled Bella that she was done with the conversation.
To call the person that you like... Bailey blinked, pressing her lips together again as she rubbed circles in the back of her hand with her opposing thumb.
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Bailey didn't have much time to think about her new discoveries. Instead, she had to focus on getting her work done. It was tax season and if she didn't get things done for her clients now it would just pile up with the influx of new propositions she was getting; in simpler terms, business was booming. After class that day, Bailey had spent the rest of her day Skyping or emailing each person she'd employed for. It was much different than interacting in a casual social manner. These people didn't care if Bailey did or said the right things—if the numbers were right they weren't complaining.
In the afternoon, Bailey stretched out her body and made her way downstairs to get some sustenance after what she deemed to be a long day of work when hurried the front door was slammed open. Bailey paused in the middle of the staircase, watching forwards as Bella dashed through the house to the phone, keys still in hand.
"Chief Swan, please," Bella said when someone answered. "It's Bella."
Bailey descended the final steps, walked toward the front entrance and closed the door that Bella had left open in her hurry. She turned back around and went toward her sister who spoke on the phone with Charlie.
"No. I just wanted directions to the Blacks' place—I'm not sure I can remember the way. I want to visit Jacob. I haven't seen him in months."
Did this sudden urge to see Jacob a by-product of the conversation Bella had with Charlie? Bailey could only wonder. At times she envied not having Edward's ability. The power to read minds would have made her life a lot easier. Bailey could only try to deduce what Bella was thinking.
Bella grabbed a pen and paper jotting down the directions that Charlie had given her over the phone before assuring him that she would be back for dinner. When she hung up Bella turned to find Bailey silently standing a few feet away examining her.
"You didn't have to call him. I know where Jacob's house is," Bailey said. She'd visited Billy Black on her own before and was surprised by the fact that Bella didn't remember where they lived.
"Now you tell me..."
Bailey examined Bella, the note in her hand with the Blacks' address and thinking about how she was in such a hurry. She had questions about what had happened over the day. What had happened to change her attitude from what it was this morning?
"Am I allowed to ask questions or would the upset you like before?" Bailey asked candidly. "Because I have a few things I would like answered."
Bella sighed. She looked at Bailey, her expression ultimately blank but there was something in her eye—a glimmer of uncertainty maybe that made her crack a soft smile.
"I'll answer them on the way."
There seemed to be a deadline that Bella was trying to follow as she drove, rather quickly (well, as quick as the truck could go—so still under 60 miles an hour) through the storm-darkened streets out of town. Bailey relayed her questions which Bella would answer half-heartedly after a while; it was a lot of questions. Most of them were just about her current thought process with underlying tones of Bailey judging Bella's constant mood changes.
The Blacks' house was the same as it had always been, a small wooden place with narrow windows, the dull red paint making it resemble a tiny barn. Jacob's head peered out the window before they could even get out of the truck. No doubt the familiar roar of the engine had tipped him off to their approach. Jacob had been very grateful when Charlie brought Billy's truck, it saved him from having to drive it when he came of age.
He met Bailey and Bella halfway to the house.
"Hey!" His excited grin stretched wide across his face, the bright teeth standing in vivid contrast to the deep russet colour of his skin. Today he was without his usual ponytail. His hair fell like a black stain curtain on either side of his broad face.
Bailey narrowed her eyes as she took a step back. Jacob had grown even more than the last time she had seen him. He'd passed the point where the soft muscles of childhood hardened into the solid, lanky build of a teenager; tendons and veins became prominent under the red-brown skin of his arms, his hands. His face was still young, though it had hardened too—the planes of his cheekbones sharper, his jaw squared off, all childish roundness gone.
"Hi, Jacob!" Bella felt an unusual surge of enthusiasm at his smile. She realized that she was pleased to see him; that knowledge surprised her. She smiled back, and something clicked silently into place, like two corresponding puzzle pieces. She'd forgotten how much she really liked Jacob Black.
Bailey inspected Bella's face, his body language—something was definitely different than it had been this morning or the past couple of months. She looked back at Jacob, who still health his broad grin. Was he the reason behind this? If so, how had he done it?
Jacob stepped a few feet away from them, and Bella stared up at him in surprise, leaning her head back, the rain pelted her face.
"You grew again!" She accused in amazement.
Jacob laughed, his smile widening. "Six five," he announced with self-satisfaction. His voice was deeper.
Bailey noted that it wasn't as deep as Paul's then paused—why had she even made that connection? He wasn't even here.
"Is it ever going to stop?" Bella shook her head in disbelief. "You're huge."
"Still a beanpole, though." He grimaced.
"With all the food you're eating you'll make up the weight in no time," Bailey said straightforwardly.
"I hope so," Jacob laughed again. "Come inside! You're getting all wet."
He led the way, twisting his hair in his big hands as he walked. He pulled a rubber band from his hip pocket and wound it around the bundle.
"Hey, Dad," he called as he ducked to get through the front door. "Look who stopped by."
Billy was in the tiny square living room, a book in his hands. He set the book in his lap and wheeled himself forward when he saw the Swan sisters.
"Well, what do you know! It's good to see you, Bella." They shook hands. Billy flashed Bailey and smile which she nodded at as a response. "What brings you out here? More food? Everything okay with Charlie?" he inquired.
"Bella wanted to see Jacob, for some reason," Bailey said.
Jacob's eyes brightened at Bailey's words. She glanced at her childhood friend, his smile was so big she feared it would hurt his cheeks.
"Well, I haven't seen him in forever," Bella admitted.
"Can you girls stay for dinner?" Billy was eager, too.
"Yes." Bailey nodded.
"No." Bella shot down not even a second after. Bailey crossed her arms over her chest while looking around the room. "No, I've got to feed Charlie, you know."
"I'll call him now," Billy suggested. "He's always invited."
Bella laughed to hide her discomfort. "It's not like you'll never see me again. I promise I'll be back soon—so much you'll get sick of me." After all, if Jacob could fix the bikes, someone had to teach her how to ride...
Billy chuckled in response. "Okay, maybe next time."
"So, what do you guys want to do?" Jacob asked.
"Whatever. What were you doing before we interrupted?" Bella was strangely comfortable here. it was familiar, but only distantly. There were no painful reminders of the recent past.
Jacob hesitated. "I was just heading out to work on my car, but we can do something else..."
"No, that's perfect!" Bella interrupted. "We'd love to see your car, right Bailey?"
Bailey had been looking longingly at the Blacks' kitchen that Bella had to call her name two more times to get her attention. She looked back at Bella and Jacob. Cars weren't exactly an interest of hers and she was still trying to understand the purpose of Bella's impromptu journey here. She merely nodded her head, going along with whatever they had planned.
"Okay," Jacob said, still not convinced either sister wanted to do this. "It's out back in the garage."
Bella waved at Billy. "See you later."
A thick strand of trees and shrubbery concealed Jacob's garage from the house. The garage was no more than a couple of big reformed sheds that had been bolted together with their interior walls knocked out. Under the shelter, raised on cinder blocks, was what looked like a completed automobile.
The symbols on the grille were recognizable.
"What kind of Volkswagen is that?" Bella asked.
"It's an old Rabbit—1986, a classic."
"How's it going?"
"Almost finished," Jacob said cheerfully. And then his voice dropped into a lower key. "My dad made good on his promise last spring."
Bailey gazed inquisitively in Bella's direction at the mention of last spring, awaiting some kind of response. Last spring, Jacob had been bribed by his father with money and a car parts to deliver a message. Billy wanted Bella to stay a safe distance from Edward. Bailey nodded—it seemed Billy had nothing to worry about now, which would explain his jolly attitude.
"Ah," was all Bella said before moving on. "Jacob, what do you know about motorcycles?"
He shrugged. "Some. My friend Embry has a dirt bike. We work on it together sometimes. Why?"
"Well..." Bella pursed her lips as she considered. She wasn't sure if he could keep his mouth shut, but she had no other options. "I recently acquired a couple of bikes, and they're not in the greatest condition. I wonder if you could get them running."
"You've acquired some have you?" Bailey's eyebrows rose at this discovery. What the hell was Bella doing with motorcycles? Why did she need any when she had the truck?
"Cool." Jacob seemed truly pleased but he challenge. His face glowed. "I'll give it a try."
"Cool?" Bailey stared at Jacob as if he'd lost all his brain cells. "Have you both lost all common sense in the last few seconds? Am I the only one aware of just how ridiculously dangerous motorcycles are?"
"Bailey—"
"No, no," Bailey shook her head, as her mind raced. "Motorcyclists account for fourteen percent of all crash-related fatalities, even though they only make up three percent of the vehicles on the road. Not to mention motorcyclists are twenty-eight times more likely than passenger vehicle occupants to die in a car crash; more than eighty percent of those crashes result in injury or death. Motorcyclist fatalists also occur nearly twenty-seven times more frequently than passenger car occupant fatalities in motor vehicle traffic crashes. And, Charlie would never approve!"
For a moment Bella looked scared. "You're not going to tell him are you?"
Bailey stared at her flatly. "You can barely walk in a straight line without tripping over your own two feet. Of course, I'm telling Charlie." She whipped out her phone but before she could dial a number, Jacob swooped in and stole her cellphone from her hands.
"Wait, Bails, let's not do anything rash."
"Rash? You mean rational?" Bailey glared at him. He had his arm spread up as high as it could go so she could only stare at her phone helplessly, with no hope of retrieving it from that height. "What about you? Are you just going to do all this labour for free?"
This offended him. "Well, yeah. I want to help. I don't want to be paid."
"How about a trade, then?" Bella was making this up as she went, but it seemed reasonable enough. "I only need one bike—and I'll need lessons, too. So how about this? I'll give you the other bike, and then you can teach me."
"Swee-eet." He made the word into two syllables.
"Wait a sec—are you legal yet? When's your birthday?" The thought just crossed Bella's mind.
"You missed it," he teased, narrowing his eyes in mock resentment. "I'm sixteen."
"Not that your age ever stopped you before," She muttered, referring to how Jacob would sometimes drive Billy around even while under the legal driving age. "Sorry about your birthday."
"Don't worry about it. I missed yours. What are you, forty?"
Bella sniffed. "Close."
"We'll have a joint party to make up for it."
"Sound like a date."
Jacob's eye twinkled at the word.
Bailey looked back and forth between the two of them; they had seemingly forgotten all about her at the moment. "Who cares about birthdays when you're both planning to kill yourselves!"
At that statement, she had regained their attention. Bailey was still very angry about this turn of events, that this had been the catalyst to Bella coming to visit Jacob, that this was why she was acting differently from her conversation with Charlie. What was she thinking? What kind of moronic possession was she under? And why was Jacob going along with this?
"Look, Bailey, I know that driving doesn't exactly sit well with you. But we'll be fine—I'll be fine."
"Statistics don't lie," Bailey reaffirmed. "I'm sure a lot of motorists thought they were fine... until they took their dying breath with their brains spilling out onto the cemented road."
"Well, Jacob said his friend has a dirty bike, right? He knows what he's doing. Besides, it's kind of too late now... they're already in my truck." Bella admitted.
"That changes absolutely nothing," Bailey said frankly. "Billy will notice if we bring them around anyway."
"We'll be sneaky." Jacob sent Bella a wink.
"I will not be sneaky," Bailey muttered defiantly.
"You don't have a choice," Jacob told her. He and Bella gave each other some sort of unspoken signal before he dashed out of the garage, slipping Bailey's cellphone into his pocket. Bella stepped in front of her sister, blocking her from the exit so that she couldn't alert Billy.
"This is suicide."
"Whatever it takes to see him again," Bella let slip.
Bailey paused examining her carefully. It seemed that Bella didn't notice she'd just said that out loud. Bailey looked her over, she was different again. Sadder. Bailey didn't quite understand the correlation just yet but these motorcycles had something to do with Bella's deep desire to see Edward again, to have him in her life. How odd, indeed.
She looked past Bella watching as Jacob eased around the east, sticking to the trees when he was in view of the windows, affecting a casual-looking stroll, just in case. Jacob unloaded the bikes swiftly from the truck bed, wheeling them one by one into the shrubbery. It looked too easy for him.
"These aren't half bad," Jacob appraised as he pushed them back into the makeshift garage. "This one here will actually be worth something when I'm done—it's an old Harley Sprint."
"That one's yours, then."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
"These are going to take some cash, though," he said, frowning down at the blackened metal. "We'll have to safe up for parts first."
"We'll be fine," Bella said, turning to face Bailey who had her arms crossed while staring at the rusted old bikes. "Bailey'll pay for them."
"I will not no such thing." She was at her feet at once. "I'm not funding a suicide mission."
Bella sighed. "Well, I've got some money saved. College fund, you know." She waited for Bailey to take the bait.
"You'd waste your college money on these pieces of junk? That's—you've completely lost your mind..." Bailey looked genuinely shocked. She could hardly fathom that Bella would carelessly throw money meant for her education to—what she believed was —some idiotic passion project.
Jacob nodded, instantly understanding the angle Bella was going for. "Yeah, I never thought college was for me anyway. So I don't mind—"
Bailey let out an exasperated gasp.
Bella and Jacob tried their best not to hold in their laughter.
"You two are... are some of the—and you just don't understand anything..." Bailey had gotten to a stand of anger where her sentences were becoming incoherent. She stopped for a moment and took a moment to collect herself, before glaring at the motorcycle. "Fine. Fine. Just no one touches their college money. I'll fund this with certain conditions."
Jacob and Bella glanced at one another again this time trying not to showcase their triumphant attitudes.
"What are your conditions?" Bella asked.
"Under no circumstances is either one of you to drive these things on the open road. Under no circumstances is Bella allowed to drive one of these things without intensive padding and Jacob present. Furthermore, seeing as I'll be paying for the parts, I now have complete ownership of these bikes. So if I feel things are going in the wrong direction, say—death—those things are getting burned and chucked away to the nearest junkyard."
Jacob let out a fake sigh as he shook his head. "I guess, that's reasonable," he pretend to be a bit disappointed.
Bailey nodded and looked at Bella.
"Yeah, same."
"Good." Bailey was pleased with herself.