Disclaimer: You seriously think I own this series? Please, get real. Twilight and all things related belong to Stephenie Meyer, who I am extremely jealous of. (Stephenie, if you are reading this, I will give you five hundred bucks if you officially declare that Edward and Jacob both belong to me and only me...then I will die forever happy...)

The next morning, Bella awoke to realize it was a Saturday. Although before she’d enjoyed Saturday’s – they always seemed to promise fun – she now detested them. Bella got dressed quickly, receiving a slightly shocking yet happy feeling when she cast a glance in the mirror. She’d only just remembered what she’d done the previous day, and she felt very proud of her actions.

However, that pride turned to dread when she realized she’d have to face Charlie. Now, not only was Charlie cranky on Saturday’s, but he was already beyond pissed at Bella because of her socially withdrawn behavior. Realizing his only daughter had gone emo-style and now sported a horrifying bob of messy, indefinably colored hair wasn’t going to cheer him up.

Bella changed from her dark purple tee into a grey hoodie, pulling the hood over her head, hoping it would conceal her hair at least a bit. She rushed down the stairs, praying Charlie at least got some office work at the station, so she could get out the house for the whole day, preventing him seeing her with her new hairstyle. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she realized she was out of luck, as per usual.

Charlie was standing murkily in front of the stove, cooking oatmeal that now looked more like bird feces in a pot.

“Hi,” she said, wearily, getting ready for the screaming. Charlie narrowed his eyes once he saw her hoodie, and grunted. Bella knew Charlie had a high standard for etiquette and respect, meaning you didn’t wear hats or hoods in the house, especially not at mealtime. Bella tried faking a nonchalant smile at him, but he didn’t buy it.

“Take off your hood,” he said, gruffly. Bella moved to the kitchen counter behind him before she followed his order. The moment Charlie turned around, she stooped down and hid behind the chair.

“Bella, stand up,” she heard Charlie’s voice command. Bella slowly obeyed.

“Take off your hood.”

She shot him a glance as if to say, “Alright, you asked for it,” and she removed her hood.

Charlie took one look at her hair and his face froze. Bella swallowed hard, ready for the screaming. Charlie shook his head and put his head in his hands.

“Dammit, Bella,” Charlie said, after a few minutes in the agonized position. “I thought the last time we had this talk it would be only time we needed to!”

Bell cringed. “I’m sorr- “

“You can’t keep doing this and apologizing! When are you going to grow up!? He’s been gone two months! He’s not going to come back!” Bella blinked back tears as she realized the horrible truth – that Charlie was absolutely, one hundred percent right.

Charlie searched her face and Bella tried her hardest not to begin crying. However, she knew she couldn’t keep the tears in much longer, and didn’t want to repeat the breakdown she’d had the previous night, especially not in front of Charlie.

Instead, she rushed into the hallway, excusing herself by saying, “I have to go; I need to meet some people at the mall,” and then ran into the truck, finally resting her head against the steering wheel and letting the tears pour.

Twenty minutes later, Bella found herself somehow, miraculously, at the imaginary “border line” going into La Push. She didn’t exactly know what she was doing here – it seemed like the road had just led her here – but she somehow felt it was right.

Bella hadn’t talked to Jacob in a month or so. Since the “abandonment”, he’d been extremely supportive of Bella. They’d acted like nothing had changed, but even Bella could tell the unspoken words, as though the wind was telling her ‘I told you so’ in Jacob’s voice. Bella could feel Jacob now had an even deeper hate for Edward than he’d had before, because he’d broken his promise. Yet she could also tell he was quite happy – Bella would have been turned into a vampire in a mere four weeks from today had Edward not left.

Still, nothing was the same. Although Jacob had welcomed her back with open arms, the rest of the werewolf community wasn’t so eager to follow in his footsteps. Most of them thought of it as a huge betrayal that Bella had chosen Edward over Jacob, and that she’d nearly been turned into a vampire (although Emily had rolled her eyes at the stupidity of it all).

Bella pulled up to the familiar house slowly, hoping this wouldn’t count as intruding or trespassing. It seemed Billy didn’t think of it like that at all, because he rolled up to the truck in his wheelchair, smiling at her through the glass separating them.

“Hey, Bella,” he called, once she’d rolled down her windows. Bella waved, not trusting herself to talk for fear of revealing her shaky voice (weakened from the crying session she’d had in the car).

“Where’ve you been, Bells?” Billy asked, hinting at the fact she hadn’t visited in so long.

“Around,” Bella said, finally speaking.

Billy smiled. “Well, come on in, Jake’s been missing you,” he said, ushering her into the house. Bella hardly believed this; the last time she’d seen Jake, it was in front of this house as he was screaming at her, frustrated, telling her he never wanted her to visit again.

They’d had a childish spat, yet it had offended Bella deeply. It had been on the date of the one month anniversary since he’d left, and Bella had been sulking around, moping because of this. They’d been working in the garage, and Bella had hardly spoken a word. Jacob had slammed down the pipe he was holding angrily, and began screaming at her.

“Why can’t you just get over him!?” Jacob had uttered angrily. Bella felt the words cut deep into her heart. She’d thought he, of all people, would understand.

“It’s not that easy, Jake,” she’d said, trying to finalize the conversation. She hadn’t wanted to get into a big argument.

“But I’m trying to be a good friend! I’m trying to help you and you’re always moping around! Couldn’t you at least make an effort?” This wasn’t necessarily true, because she’d at least smiled when she was with Jacob (although even those smiles were rare).

The fight had continued some fifteen minutes, Jacob constantly repeating how she’d been impossible to live with and that he wasn’t coming back, ending with a crying Bella running to her truck, screaming to Jacob how she hated him, and he telling her she was no longer welcome down in La Push.

Bella hadn’t returned since.

She now weaved through the familiar halls of the house, eventually sitting down in the living room.

Billy poured her a cup of orange juice, which was such an absurd thing to have in a werewolf-inhabited house.

They made small talk for some ten minutes – about school, work (where she’d managed to get fired), Charlie’s health – until Billy seemed to notice her uneasiness (probably because she’d been staring out the window every few seconds) and said, “Jake’s out. He’s hunting.”

“Oh.”

“He’ll be back in a few minutes, don’t worry,” Billy reassured her. Bella smiled.

Just as Billy had said, Jacob had arrived in a mere two minutes. Bella had jumped up when she heard the front door slam.

Jacob entered the living room, soaking wet, dripping on the carpet.

“Hey, son,” Billy said. “Look who’s here.”

Jacob looked around and as his eyes locked on Bella, he smiled. Bella smiled back.

“Hi,” he waved awkwardly. Billy’s eyes twinkled.

“I’ll leave you two kids to talk it out,” he said mischievously. Jacob glared at his father.

He turned around to take his wet jacket off, and turned back to Bella.

“I’m sorry,” Bella blurted out. Jacob smiled, and said, “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry too.” Bella smiled, noticing the tears softly running down her face.

Jacob pulled her into a hug and Bella noticed how he’d seemed to grow in the span of just one month, if it was even possible for him to be any bigger.

They stayed like that for a while, Bella smiling into his shirt. She just remembered how much she’d missed Jacob.

They got to talking, and eventually ended up in their usual place – the garage.

Bella noticed the motorcycle in the corner, remembering the memories – some happy, many painful – that came with it. Jacob showed her the car he was fixing – one that looked so old she could hardly believe it was a car – and explained to her exactly what he wanted to do to it.

Eventually, they got to work on it. Well, technically Jacob got to work on it, while Bella stood there and watched, occasionally handing him a tool or car part.

“So, what are you going to do with this thing when you’re done?” Bella asked, watching as he ripped out the rearview mirror. It had so much grime on it that it seemed like it had fallen in a bucket of pig crap.

“Oh, nothing much,” Jacob said uninterestedly. “I was thinking of taking it down to a expo in Phoenix, but I don’t have the time or the means of transportation. I’m not so good at this, anyway. So I’ll probably just sell it to some local.”

Bella protested, “Yes you are Jake!”

Jacob smiled at her thankfully.

“You fix cars as good as you fix my heart,” Bella blurted out before she could stop herself. She felt a slight blush creeping up her body towards her neck and head. Jacob stood up instantly, surprised.

“That was once,” he said. “And I kind of had to; you were like a freaking zombie.”

“Well,” Bella said, “You did a good job.”

There was silence for a few minutes, and Bella noticed the tears coming down her face again. Dammit! Why did she always have to break down and cry in front of Jacob?

Jacob pulled her into another bear hug, quite similar to the one earlier. Bella lightly wiped tears from her eyes, and smiled up at him. She noticed he looked somewhat angry.

“Thanks,” Bella said.

“What, this?” Jacob asked in surprise, looking down at his shirt, which was now wet with salty tears. “Don’t worry about it; it’s not even my best shirt.”

“No,” Bella said, waving her hand at the shirt as if to say it held no importance. “I meant thanks for making me smile.”

“Anytime,” Jacob muttered, looking at her a bit oddly. Bella bit her tongue, and fought back the tears she’d stopped awhile ago. Everything she did with Jacob was at least moderately painful, because she’d done those things with him as well. The memories flew back into her mind and cut her heart like glass. The hugging, smiling, all the mushy moments. They were painful to think about, but even harder to relive with someone else. It was because of this that she’d strongly believed she would have had a hard time getting over him. And she’d been right.

“You miss him,” Jacob said, point blank. “Even after he hurt you so bad.”

“Can we not go into this Jacob, please?” Bella begged. This topic had been the root of their first fight, the one that caused her to not to talk to him for a month.

“Do you still love him?” Jacob asked.

“Yes,” Bella admitted shamefully. “It’s pretty hard to get over a guy like him.”

“It’s pretty hard to get over a guy like me, too,” Jacob admitted jokingly. Bella threw a tiny, rubber car part at him, and he dodged to defend himself from it.

After their small “fight” ended, Jacob moved back to stand beside her.

“So, I just wanted to ask one more thing,” Jacob said. Bella nodded for him to continue. “Well, I just don’t really understand this. How can you love him after he practically stabbed you through, figuratively, of course, with a giant butcher knife.”

Bella looked at him. “Love is much deeper than who hurts who and who does what,” she whispered. “Jacob, love is controlled by the heart. The heart has no eyes, so cannot it judge. It only feels, and I do not know so much about this, but the passionate feeling seems to outweigh all the others no matter how strong they are. The passion always wins.”

“So you’re saying if you ever see him again,” Jacob contemplated, “there’s no chance of you kicking his ass back to vampire hell?”

Bella laughed. “No.” She didn’t bother pointing out that Edward was a lovely person, and there was no chance of him coming from hell.

Jacob seemed to finally notice her hair.

“Nice. Did it tick you off or something?” Jacob asked, smiling.

“No,” Bella said. “I had a rebellious emo moment.”

“You have more and more of those each day,” he commented lightly. Bella hit him. “You’re also more and more violent,” he added.

“What, you don’t like it?” Bella asked, pretending to be offended.

“No, no it’s fine,” Jacob said. “Actually, it’s kind of cool. How’d Charlie react?”

“Badly,” Bella admitted. “He sort of yelled at me.”

“Oh,” Jacob said.

He smiled. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Bella knew the answer, the truest one, would be “no”. But she also knew that if she said that, she’d have to go into a long explanation of why, and that would once again lead her to crying in Jacob’s arms.

“As fine as I can be at the moment,” she said. Jacob looked at her cautiously, sort of like he didn’t believe her. Bella didn’t blame him – people who were “fine” didn’t break down and cry or cut their hair off in bouts of anger. Jacob seemed to not stress this point, however.

“If you ever need help, I’ll be there,” he said simply. Bella smiled.

“I’ll try not to need help,” she said.

“That’s a hard feat for you,” Jacob replied. “Trouble seems to find you everywhere you go.” Bella laughed.

“You know what?” Bella said. “I think I’ll be okay. A few tubs of ice cream, some sad movies, maybe a dartboard with his face on it, and all my problems will be solved.”

“Oh, is Bella Swan cracking jokes now?” Jacob asked incredulously. “What a rarity! Somebody take a picture!” Bella smiled, enjoying the moment. She remembered exactly why she’d come here.
“Listen, I have to go,” she said. Her watch read six o’clock. She had to be home in time to make dinner – although she and Charlie rarely ate together anymore, he still expected her to come home as though everything was normal.

“Alright,” Jacob said, smiling. He hugged her one last time, saying, “Come back soon, okay.” Bella nodded, and grabbed her stuff, rushing out the door.

“I’m home!” Bella yelled, just as the door slammed. She’d noticed Charlie’s police cruiser was untouched in the garage, meaning he must be cranky. The last time they’d used the garage was seven years ago when Bella had broken her leg the whole summer, and they’d had no use for the car, since Charlie couldn’t go to work at all. He’d been sad and sulky the whole time, and the day he’d gone back to work he looked like it was the happiest day of his life.

Now, things couldn’t be good.

Bella entered the kitchen to view a pitiful scene. Charlie was standing there in a cooking apron, a pan containing unspecified burnt food in his left hand, a rubber glove on his right.

“Charlie, what are you doing?” Bella asked. He looked up at her sadly.

“I tried making cookies,” he said shamefully. “They burned.”

Had it been any other situation, Bella would have laughed. But this was Charlie. He was in a delicate mood, and she didn’t want to tamper with it at the moment.

“Why?” She instead asked.

Charlie frowned, saying, “I’m on a temporary break from work.”

“You decided to make cookies because you’re taking a break from work?” Bella asked incredulously, wondering where the heck her father’s mind had gone for the past few hours.

“I’m not choosing to take it,” he said. “They called me and told me I can’t come to work for the next month.”

“So you made cookies?” Bella asked, as though talking to a child who’d made a mistake.

“I thought they’d make me feel better,” he replied simply.

“Is that latex?” Bella asked, taking a closer look at the glove on his hand. Charlie shrugged as if to say ‘So what if it is?’

“Charlie, you don’t use latex when you’re cooking,” Bella sighed. Although this was the longest conversation they’d had in the past two months, and she’d wanted this to happen, somehow she hadn’t imagined it would go like this. “The cooking gloves are in the cupboard.” Charlie gave her a guilty look.

“I’ll help clean up,” Bella said.

Once they were done, Bella poured herself some milk and sat down at the kitchen counter.

“I visited Jake,” Bella said. Charlie grunted – he was back to grumpy Charlie, most likely because of his horrible failures in the kitchen. “We made up.”

“That’s nice,” Charlie said, uninterested.

Bella felt the anger rise inside of her. He was the one who’d wanted her to do this for the past couple months – and he was part of the reason she’d even gone to visit – and now he acted like he didn’t care. At least he could try being a supportive father; she was making an effort to be a good daughter and have a normal conversation with him.

“I’ll be in my room,” Bella huffed, running quickly up the stairs and slamming her door.

She dozed off for a while until she heard knocking on the front door. Bella let it go on for a while, thinking Charlie would get it. Eventually, after six knocks or so, Bella stood up and raced down the stairs. Quickly checking the watch on the TV, she noticed it was 10:45 PM. Who’d come that late at night?

Bella reached the door and lightly opened it, thinking it was probably someone pulling a prank or one of Charlie’s friends over to watch some game.

What she got was much worse.

Because there he was, standing right on her doorstep, smiling his signature smile. Bella was frozen – she didn’t know what to do.

So she slammed the door in his face.

AN: Yup...It's a Bedward. Or whatever you're supposed to call them. There's the chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. I wrote this because I luckily brought my USB up to my friend's cottage and managed to work on this story via her laptop (go portable computers!) and that's why this story is updated and some other aren't...

Hope all you people who are Canadian had a great Victoria Day and shot lotsa fireworks. Anyways, please review if you have the time.