EPOV

I couldn't explain why, but the entire week dragged more than they usually do. That was for sure saying something, seeing as it wasn't like Jazz and I had jack shit to any other time. He and I got so restless we went so far as to wander around the house and property, pointing out various shit that should be fixed or gotten rid of or whatever. This was absurd. Neither of us had any plans to stay in this pocket of the Pacific Northwest long term, and I think we were both figuring that when we got sick of the house we could sell it for pure profit. While it was no mansion, it would still net Jazz more cash than either of us had ever seen in our short shitty lives.

Something was bothering me, gnawing at the back of my brain the way it is when you're trying to think of a word and you fucking can't. This sense of, I don't know, having missed a crucial point. It made it tough to sit still. The more I tried to figure it out and couldn't the more it frustrated the absolute hell out of me.

Jasper, though, it was easy to see what he had on his mind. The smiler. My sandwich maker. Alice. He wanted that piece something fierce and for Christ knows what reason I thought he actually had a half-decent chance with her. He was punching above his weight class, no doubt about it, but the girl seemed interested.

Monday afternoon he'd bounced out of the house whistling all cheerful and shit to pick her up and return her car. I'd planned to just hide out back if they came back in case he wanted to go for something, but she didn't stick around. Because of me, she just picked up her car and asked Jazz to call her some time and off she went. Well fuck.

That was what I'd wanted, wasn't it? Yeah, it had been. Nice little adventure, girlies, and no thank you for your time. Only Jazz was stuck on her, getting all distracted fiddling with his car keys and staring at the wall, and it was starting to drag on me. After only so long I couldn't take that shit anymore and I told him, look, do what you need to do. I just didn't want to see her and I especially didn't want to see her friend. I was still getting over my freak out and if either one of them so much as gave me the weird look I knew they would give me I would flip my shit for real.

Jazz brushed it off like nah man, no big thing, grinning and punching me in the shoulder. I let it go and he let it go. So why did the house feel so fucking empty and on edge?

By the time Saturday rolled around we were both actively looking forward to that shit. Sam'd said that we didn't really need to be there so early, since he'd pegged for a couple of lazy assholes right from the start, but fuck I wanted out of the house. Any excuse to do something, to feel productive. We rolled up to Sam's just after 11am, stubbly and slightly hung over but ready to go. Shit, we'd even brought our own beer as a contribution.

The Uley house didn't have a driveway; more like a large that served as both driveway and front yard. Jazz left the truck there and we went to the porch to ring the doorbell. No answer.

"What'ya think?" Jazz asked me, scratching the back of his head.

"Fuck, I dunno man."

This place wasn't that big, and he was expecting us. Dude had to be around here somewhere. Jazz and I turned around on the porch, surveying the surrounding houses and whatever. There was a half-collapsed shed across the road, two little black-haired kids playing with a three-legged dog. No other people that we could tell.

"Jake's," Jazz finally decided.

I agreed and we hopped back off the porch, walking up the road to where we remembered Jake's place being. This proved to be a safe bet, as sure enough the kid was in his garage hard at work with the radio blaring. We entered the garage as loudly as we could to avoid catching him off guard, and Jake lifted his head from the hood of the car with a grin.

"Eddie. Jazz Hands. 'Sup? You looking for Sam?" He twirled the wrench expertly in his hand as he spoke, showing off.

I nodded. "Yeah, you seen him around?"

Jake tossed the wrench in the arm, reach his hand behind his back and catching it easily. He flashed a smug smile at Jazz and I, and I knew he'd spent time practicing that one. Cocky kid. I liked Jake a lot.

"Yeah, he's up at the house with dad and some other guys. You can chill out here with me – I'm just getting ready to take this front bumper off."

This was a task easily better suited to Jasper and one that didn't look as if took more than one person anyway, but I stuck around because it was better than the Clearwater's. Sam had said something about clearing out Mrs. Clearwater's rain gutters last week and f I'd gone over there I could have been doing that instead. But no. I was still looking for a way to avoid that place without looking like a prick, which is exactly what I was.

Anyway as it turned out I was only buying myself time, because after about an hour and a half of hanging out in the garage Sam came in along with one of the other guys we'd met last week. I tried to remember his name when he greeted Jazz and I by ours. Paul? Paul, I think. And the very first thing out of Sam's mouth?

"Ah, Edward. Cool. I told Sue you'd be over today to take a look at a leak in her roof."

Fuck.

"Yeah man I'll head over." I dropped the unknown tool I'd been idly toying with and told Jazz I'd catch up with him later before shuffling out of the garage like a dead man walking.

It's on the roof, I tried to rationalize to myself during the short trip to the Clearwater house. It's not like anyone else is gonna be up there.

Just like last time, Mrs. Clearwater and her daughter were in the kitchen when I showed up. The absolute cutest God damn domestic thing they could possibly be doing. Not even just regular cooking, oh no, it had to be baking, with fucking aprons on and everything. Mrs. Clearwater pointed out to me where in the house the leak was coming through and I told her I'd take a look. As quick as I could I made my escape.

I grabbed the ladder out of the garage and climbed up onto the roof. More than likely some of the asphalt shingles had come loose. The house didn't have an attic, so any rainwater would've leaked right down though that weird popcorn texture ceiling plaster. Simplest solution: hammer something else down over the gap. More asphalt shingle, if I could find it in the garage.

Only once I got up there I realized we weren't talking one isolated spot that needed patching. The roof was fucking riddled with holes, and while I didn't need to fix them now they'd just start leaking too somewhere on down the line. Well God damn it. I ran my fingers through my hair as I surveyed the situation, silently cursing the venerable deceased Mr. Clearwater for not taking care of this on his own before he bumped off.

I only had one more week of this gig and then it wasn't my problem anymore. By the time the house leaked somewhere else, I'd be long gone and someone else could deal with it. Some other asshole stupid enough to get picked up by the cops on a Friday night. This was what I told myself, but at the same time I was already mentally tallying up the number of bare spots and estimating how much asphalt shingle I'd need. Yeah, okay. I'd wanted to feel productive? Shit man, here we go.

There was a decent amount of asphalt shingle buried in the garage which I found only after digging through everything and getting about ten million splinters. It led me to believe that Mr. Clearwater had been aware of the problem and at one point went so far as to go out and buy the shit he'd need to fix it before getting distracted or dying or whatever. I also found short roofing nails and a rusty hammer that was more than likely going to give me tetanus before this was all over.

I had my work cut out for me, and I was just getting started when the daughter Leah poked her head over the edge of the roof and startled the shit out of me.

"Excuse me?" she asked timidly, out of fucking nowhere. I hadn't even heard her climbing the ladder.

"Jesus fuck!"

I dropped the hammer and spun around to where she was standing on the top of the ladder to peer over the rain gutter at me. Her eyes widened as she backed down the ladder a step, and instantly I felt bad.

"Fuck, sorry." Yeah Edward, curse more, I really think that's helping. "Uh, sorry."

"It's okay," she told me in this tiny voice, looking down at the gutter in front of her awkwardly.

"Did you, uh, did you need something?" Now that my heart was slowing back down the awkwardness was creeping up on me too. I'd really been hoping to avoid this kind of thing.

"Mom wants to know if you were hungry or thirsty or anything..." she trailed off nervously.

Of course Mom did. Mom was probably fully prepared to send up a root beer and a PBJ with the crusts cut off, because that was the kind of intolerably nice lady Mom was.

"I'm good," I told the girl, Leah, knowing this was the quickest way to get her out of my sight. She rolled her lips in and disappeared from view once more.

I sat back on the slant of the roof, resting my forearms on my knees as I rubbed my temples. Fuck, this reroofing stuff was going to take up the rest of the day, easily, plus the entire next Saturday as well. I was stuck here with the Clearwaters and if they kept being nice to me I was going to want to fucking bash my head in with that rusted hammer.

The rational side of me knew that was stupid. It was rolling its eyes at the fact that I was sitting here legitimate wishing that Mrs. Clearwater and her daughter could maintain a polite indifference toward me and toward each other in my presence. Hell, that wasn't just selfish, that was outright fucked up. Like who has those kinds of thoughts, those kinds of wishes? Not normal, healthy, well-adjusted people, that was for sure. Then again, if I were well-adjusted I wouldn't have a rap sheet long enough to paper a room with.

Okay Edward, suck it up. The longer you sit here feeling sorry for yourself, the longer this is going to take. Get back to work.

I returned to my hammering with more vigor than before, now feeling guilty for my bad thoughts plus irritation because, yeah, I was starting to get hungry. Why had I felt compelled to take all this on?

Man, why couldn't I have known anything about car repair?

Two hours later my shoulders were stiff and I was gritty with sweat and dirt the wind had blown on me, not to mention tar smudges all over my hands and clothes. I felt disgusting. And forget food – I was thirsty. I dropped the hammer again in frustration and swung down the ladder, my goal simple: find the hose, get some water, get back to work. Yeah, like a dog. Exactly like that. It was coiled up on the side of the house and I ran it over my head and back just for good measure, just because even with the clouds in the sky I knew I was going to have one hell of a sunburn after today.

I was trooping back around the corner to the ladder when I was intercepted by Mrs. Clearwater bearing a small plate of brownies.

"There you are. I- good Lord in Heaven, Edward, what have you been doing?"

I stared at her, caught animal, my mind working to come up with an appropriate response but only able to come up with "Fuck."

"Your roof," I said dumbly, gesturing vaguely above our heads at the house.

"My roof?" Mrs. Clearwater wrinkled her forehead and actually looked up, as if she'd be able to see what I was talking about from down here. I took a breath.

"Yeah, uh, your roof is f- there's a lot of places that need patching. You had shingles in your garage so..." I finished with a shrug, shifting on my feet in preparation to edge around her and make for the ladder and climb to safety.

"Oh, I see. I didn't realize it was so bad. Do I need to call someone?" She pursed her lips and rolled them together the exact same way her daughter had done when I turned down lunch, and I saw the strong family resemblance.

"No it's cool, I got it. I should get back to it though..." I was edging now, all cagey and up on the balls of my feet, hands shoved in the pockets of my jeans. I looked sketch as hell and I knew it.

"Well why don't you sit down for a moment? I brought you some brownies. Leah said you were hungry but that was a while ago. They've just finished cooling."

Ugh motherfuck me. Please just get the hell away from me okay? No offense.

"...Thanks."

I stuck out a grubby hand to accept the plate, cringing at the way I left dark smears on the cheerfully painted ceramic. Mrs. Clearwater beamed at me as I made a token effort at picking at the brownie. That was the protocol, right? Take a bite, tell her how good it was? That's how it looks on television. Never in my entire life had anyone presented me with a fresh baked good.

"Thanks," I said again, unable to smile. Mrs. Clearwater did though.

"You can just leave the plate in the sink when you're done," she let me know. "Leah and I have to run some errands so we'll be going out. And Edward?"

"Yeah?" I lifted my head, squinting from what had to be dust in my eye when I tried to look at her.

"Thank you so much for all your help. That's very sweet of you."

She stepped forward then and patted me on my filthy, sweaty, hose-wet back while still smiling, and I felt obscenely low. Once she was out of sight it took several deep breaths before I was able to get a lock on it. And once I had, just because I was hungry and they smelled so good, I ate Mrs. Clearwater's brownies with ungodly speed.

I heard their car leaving and mentally counted to fifteen then returned to the back patio. I didn't want to track dirt all over the undoubtedly spotless kitchen so I kicked off my shoes and put my hand through my t-shirt to open the slider. The house was nice and quiet, the smell of brownie permeating the air, and I saw the plate of them resting on the counter. Would anyone care if I'd had another on? I mean I'd been too hung over for breakfast and too dysfunctional to say yes to lunch.

Mrs. Clearwater was so trusting, leaving her house unlocked when she had a fucking criminal alone on her property. What the hell was she thinking? I'd busted into places not half this nice before, and she was practically gift-wrapping her shit and leaving it out for me. And not just me – anyone could walk in here to take whatever the fuck they wanted.

That bothered me. I didn't like that. Not like people would bother coming all the way out here to La Push to steal shit but that they could. I could right now if I wanted, and it hadn't even occurred to Mrs. Clearwater when she was being all sweet and giving me brownies on a fucking ceramic plate.

It wasn't right. Mrs. Clearwater didn't know what I was, how I did. Not like I was this big time bad ass but like I was this no good bastard and yeah. I did shit. I'd done kind of a lot of shit in my time and even though it was all minor stuff it still wasn't the kind of shit good people did. And here she was thinking I was "sweet". So what? What if she knew? She wouldn't be sending her teenage daughter up on the roof alone to check on me, that was for damn sure. She wouldn't be leaving her God damn door unlocked.

I set the plate gently in the sink as directed and went over to the slider to flick the lock. Once I had I went back out the front door and made sure that was locked too.

It was three more hours before I gave up on the roof for the day, and only then because Sam was yelling my name from the lawn. I peered down at him and he said I could knock it off for the day. I wasn't happy with how little progress it seemed like I'd made, but I was exhausted and starving so I figured I might as well rein it in. I carried the unused roof nails and asphalt shingles down the ladder and left them in the garage where they'd be easy to access. Then I closed and locked that door and walked with Sam back to Jake's place.

"Sue came by the Black house on her way out, said you were like a dream come true," Sam told me, grinning and rolling his eyes in amusement. "Fair warning, she's going to try to pay you or something."

"Shit," I muttered, running my fingers though my hair. By that point it was filthy and still damp from sweat and hose water, so it wasn't like it mattered. Sam laughed.

"You look disgusting," he said cheerfully. "You wanna borrow some clothes or something? We're going over to the Call's in a bit to barbeque."

Any other time that would have been a very tempting offer, but just now I was in no kind of mood. I shrugged Sam off and muttered something like "doesn't matter," and soon we were at Jake's garage. Jake and Jasper were standing there talking to someone perched on the close hood of the truck, and I rubbed my eyes to get a better look. Jazz turned around at the sound of our approach, his movement revealing the third figure more fully, and I stopped dead in my tracks.

Bella. Fucking Bella.

I could not fucking believe it.

Jazz gave me a knowing look while Jake grinned and Bella toyed with her hands nervously in her lap. I stared back at Jazz, making sure he could see in my expression exactly how I felt about this. Bella hopped off the hood and stepped toward me.

Bella was such a cute little thing, those doe eyes all wide and innocent. I liked her skin too, how it was perfect and porcelain. In a weird way that I knew full well was creepy, I was jealous of her skin. She almost looked delicate, but she wasn't frail. She was trouble, was what she was.

"Hi Edward," she greeted me, all hesitant, forcing this smile.

What did she think I was going to do? Scratch that; I didn't want to know. She was looking at me funny, though, in a way I couldn't decipher, and it set me on edge. Not like I was interesting and not like she was afraid of me. Not like she was pissed or like she was hurt. I hadn't seen this look before. It gave me a weird feeling in my gut that I figured could be at least half-blamed on only having eaten brownies today. I kind of liked the feeling and I kind of didn't, and I definitely didn't like that I kind of liked it.

That cemented my decision on the barbeque – I was ready to be out of here already.

"Hi," I said shortly, not looking back at her.

Well wasn't this awkward.

"Jazz, man, give me your car keys. I need to go grab my sweatshirt." I cocked my head and felt my neck pop, still stiff from being hunched over on the roof all day. Jazz'd get the hint. Not like it was a subtle one. Sam was talking to Jake about the car now and Bella was still watching me – I felt her eyes on me as Jazz fished in his pocket.

"I'll come with you," he said, coming forward out of the garage and spinning his key ring around his fingers. It didn't matter that we had fuck all worth stealing – Jasper and I both knew better than to leave anything of ours unlocked.

As soon as we were far enough down the road that we were out of earshot from the others, I cursed and tugged at my hair.

"What were the odds?" I wondered aloud. I mean I knew this county was sparse but seriously?

"Oh so get this," Jazz started, laying out his palm as if to physically hand me his information. "Her dad was friends with Jake's dad. Like real tight. Crazy right?"

"Huh," I agreed absently.

What did that mean, was? It didn't matter and I was annoyed that I'd put enough mental process into it to catch that past tense.

"Let's book," I told Jazz when we got to the pickup. We should have gone back to the others to say goodbye, but I didn't want Bella giving me that strange look again.

Jazz remained standing next to the cab of his truck, scrunching his face and looking off into nothing. He didn't answer me but hummed noncommittally, bouncing back on his heels.

And I understood.

I blew out a gust of air in frustration and rolled my head back to look up at the overcast sky. The sun was low on the horizon now, the dying light bouncing off the clouds in different colors. That was one thing I missed about Chicago – the sunrises and sunsets were pretty as all hell. There is an unbelievable amount of pollution in the air and it just makes the sunsets fucking gorgeous. Jasper and I had this one place I used to use the fire escape to climb up onto the roof of, to watch them. Real nice stuff. From up there you could just look out across the city and not see any of the people, the buildings black silhouettes with the light directly behind them. It was the closest thing to peaceful I'd ever gotten in the city.

Washington was supposed to be peaceful. It was slow and boring and full of rednecks. I wasn't getting laid or doing much else for that matter, but it had been peaceful damn it. Like after so many years of Jazz and I running around, causing and putting up with untold amounts of shit both on our own and together, we had this almost like vacation. None of the assholes down at the Cook County Parole Board offices or any of the other lowlifes we knew and hung out with. No pollution, no loud neighbors or car horns at all hours of the day and night.

No familiar sights or memory triggers or chances of however minuscule of running into people I had once known. No tightly packed together shithole apartments and giant Catholic churches that gave me flashbacks to corporal punishment. Clean air. Fresh rain.

Peace. Temporary reprieve. That was what Washington was supposed to be.

"You want to invite her over so we can invite her friend Alice over so you can work on nailing her."

It wasn't a question because I wasn't asking. And because it wasn't a question, Jasper didn't have to answer. I sighed again.

"Yeah alright," I mumbled, not bothering to grab my sweatshirt out of the cab. I didn't care how obvious it was to anyone else why we'd really come out here.

I turned around to go back to Jake's garage, more acutely aware now than before of how hungry and tired and sore I was. A shower, some food, and some sleep. Jazz would have to figure out what to do with Bella while he put his moves on her friend on his own. Who knew, maybe he'd go back to her place. Leave me out of it almost entirely.

We got back and I pretended to be interested in Jake's car, listening to him enthusiastically point out the various things he wanted to fix while Jazz took Bella aside and said whatever it was he said. It would be smooth because Jasper was smooth. I heard Bella announce that she was going to go call Alice, and damn if she didn't sound excited.

That was unexpected. I wondered if she had a thing for Jazz too and thought how funny that would be. Jazz wouldn't care; he'd hit 'em both. He was undiscriminating. You might like cheesecake better than pie but you're not going to turn down either one if it's offered to you, right?

"So you guys aren't coming to Embry's?" Jake asked me, disappointed. I shrugged and shook my head.

"Blame Jazz," I told him, rolling my eyes. Jake looked over at Jazz and back to me.

"But you'll be around?" he wanted to know. Aw, kid thought we were like buddies now. That was cool with me, I guessed. I liked Jake and his alright.

"Yeah for sure. Next Saturday."

"Cool."

Bella came back and we decided the plan was that she'd ride back with Jazz and I to our place and Alice would meet us there. I assumed they'd go grab dinner or something at that point, because we didn't have a whole hell of a lot back at the house, but it wasn't my concern. Shower. Calories. Bed.

In the truck Bella was chatty, but in this antsy kind of way. She was talking about Billy, who I figured out was Jake's dad, and how he and her dad had been fishing buddies since before she was born and she and Jake had grown up together except for the years she'd lived with her mom in Arizona when she was younger. She asked if either of us had been to Arizona – Jazz yes for like all of five minutes, me no.

I couldn't exactly tell her to shut up but I was getting a headache so I tried to tune her out for the most part. Jazz picked up the slack on that one, prompting her with follow up questions and talking about Jake's car and whatever else.

She smelled nice, like the same way She's smelled the last time we'd given her a ride, and the only reason I noticed was because the cab of Jasper's truck was really not quite big enough for three people to sit so I was crammed kinda close to her. Plus she was shorter than me by enough that I caught the scent of her shampoo every time she turned her head toward Jazz to answer his questions or ask one of her own. Like I said, it was nice. Maybe like flowery. Like girl.

At one point I interrupted her, just because it was gnawing at me and I had to know. The first thing I'd ever learned about this chick was some vague thing about her daddy.

"So where's your dad now?"

"Oh..." Bella trailed off and stared out the windshield, and immediately I regretted asking. This was going to be some kind of serious shit, I could tell. "He, uhm, he's passed away. A couple, a few years ago now."

"That sucks, I'm sorry," Jazz cut in sympathetically, maneuvering the truck around a corner as he spoke. "What happened? Was he sick?" Jazz was better at these kinds of things than I – he wasn't even fazed.

"No, he... got shot. He was working – he was the Forks Police Chief – and he got shot while he was working and he died."

"Jesus," I muttered by reflex.

Dead. Her daddy was dead. Well, shit.

She sounded so sad about it too, and my mind flashed backward to that line I'd overheard at the police station those two weeks or however long ago. Something about Bella's father doing something for her. I'd assumed he'd called to bail her out or he knew someone or something. Of course I had. That was logical, wasn't it, considering? Man, but I'd been a dick. And Bella had given me the first hint of her anger, cursing at me in a way I'd assumed she wasn't capable of based on how she looked.

"I'm so sorry Bella," Jazz told her sincerely. "That really sucks."

It made perfect sense now. Without knowing exactly what it was Bella's father had "taken the liberty of," I got why the cop had cut her and her friends loose. The man had to be some kind of hero around here, going out on the job like that. Couldn't exactly go around tossing his daughter in jail, could they?

I felt bad for her. That had to be a really shitty deal. Obviously Bella cared about her dad a lot or she wouldn't be all broken up about it now. And hell, that was with Jazz being sympathetic. Imagine how fucking raw it must've felt when I'd called her out the way I had, just because I was drunk and pissy.

"Yeah, that sucks," I echoed Jazz faintly, looking down at my dirty hands. Part of me wanted to apologize. I couldn't do that in front of Jazz; he didn't know what I'd said. You asshole.

"It's okay," Bella assured us even though it kind of wasn't. She spared us the task of dealing with the heavy mood by abruptly changing the subject. "So are you guys hungry? Maybe after Alice shows up we could get dinner?"

"Yeah," I agreed, my guilt pushing my previously cemented plans out of the way. "Yeah we could do that." I wasn't going to be able to shoot her down now, not after that. One meal wasn't going to kill me, as long as we didn't go anywhere disgusting. I could play nice for an hour and a half while Jasper did his thing and was a charming shit.

Jazz tossed me a curious glance over the top of Bella's head and I shrugged one shoulder. This was what he wanted, right? He half-smiled and turned his attention back to the road, and I cracked my neck again.

So much for peaceful.

The next chapter is a lot longer than the past ones have been, so I apologize in advance. As always, I really appreciate any feedback you guys have for me. Is there anything you're especially enjoying? Anything you think could make this story better? Feel free to let me know!