I DON'T OWN THE RIGHTS TO TWILIGHT OR ANY RESEMBLANCE THERE OF.

SO, I DECIDED TO GO BACK AND RE-HASH THIS A BIT. NOT MUCH HAS CHANGED, BUT I CLEANED IT UP AND HOPEFULLY MADE THINGS CLEARER / BETTER WRITTEN LOL.

FOR ALL THOSE READING AGAIN… THANK YOU SO MUCH! FOR ANY NEW READERS, I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!

PAST THIS NOTE, ANY OTHERS WILL BE THE ORIGINAL NOTES I USED WHEN I FIRST POSTED.

THANKS,

-ZHIVAGO3

Chapter 1

5th Wheel

(Bella POV)

I hated being the third wheel. But if I was being perfectly accurate, I was the 5th wheel. Even better, sigh.

We planned the vacation last year when things were… calmer.

Angela, Jessica and I had been friends since High School. I'd come to the sleepy town of Forks after my Mother, Renee, decided that Phoenix wasn't fulfilling her spiritually anymore. She absolutely had to follow her heart toward her bliss. 'Bliss' turned out to be following 'Guru Phil' around the world as he taught Universal Love via Tantric Sex and Yoga. Try as I might to hate her for it, I couldn't. Actually, I was jealous that she knew what would make her happy, she always did. She had the ability to jump from one happiness to another, and genuinely too.

She was a free spirit, always had been. She never once made me feel like I was holding her back when I was growing up, she loved me too much for that. So when the chance came for her to fly, for her to live out some fantasies, what kind of a daughter would I have been if I didn't let her? I moved to Forks where my father was the local Sheriff, and life was quiet… and rainy.

Thanks to Renee, I grew up quickly, maybe too quickly. I did the cooking, cleaning, and grocery shopping. I made the doctor appointments. She wasn't a bad mother. She loved me endlessly and provided for me, kissed my boo-boo's, and took me to ballet class. But Renee was never what you could call 'practical'. Luckily, I was my father's daughter.

Fitting into the small town life was hard. I was shy and hated making eye contact (having an ostentatious Mother will do that for you). It all made for a disastrous social skills recipe. The suffocating small high school that I had to deal with daily was no respite either; everyone knew everyone else's business. O just wasn't used to it. There was no sinking into dark corners there. Everyone was on display all the time. Luckily Jessica was the nosiest person in the world and took me under her wing at the end of my first week there. We were pretty much inseparable after that.

Jess and later Angela saved me and pried me out of my shell, for the most part. I still wasn't a social butterfly, makeup made me sweat, and men made me nervous. I never considered myself all that pretty either. I was too skinny, had long brown hair that just sat there, and I was pale, no amount of sun could ever change that. I wasn't vivacious like Jessica, or unique like Ang. I was just Bella.

After High School, Ang and I found our way to Dartmouth and Jess, ever the party girl, found her way to New Hampshire State; we were never more than a car ride away from each other. In college, Jess found Mike. He was a nice, if not somewhat dimwitted guy who suited her perfectly. Ang found Eric, perhaps one of the sweeter men on the planet, and I found James.

I met him at one of the really loud obnoxious local spots that Jess liked to drag us too. I later found out that he was attending the local police academy in New Hampshire. He was sitting at the corner of the bar, smoking a cigarette, wearing all black, and had the same oh-god-please-get-me-the-hell-out-of-here-look that I had. So we did. We slipped into an easy relationship after that. Needless to say, Charlie, my dad, was thrilled I was dating a cop, or almost cop.

After College, things changed though. I thought I loved James, so we found an apartment and moved in with each other. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with myself, so I bounced around from job to job never really satisfied with anything. Meanwhile James joined the local police department where his Father and just about every other guy in his family were cops too. For three years things were simple, easy, and uncomplicated. Simple turned to unhappy really quickly.

It all started when James' Father died. He started getting moody, well moodier than normal. He was always on edge and angry, he would snap at anything I said or did. My only refuge was the kitchen, but not even my cooking made him happy anymore. So when we got together with the gang for one of our usual Friday night group dates, and Ang and Eric suggested a group getaway to the Bahamas, it sounded like a great idea, and James actually smiled! But I wouldn't see him smile again after that night.

James started smoking constantly. Smoking turned to excessive amounts of pot, and the pot turned to heavy drinking and god knows what else. He became obsessive. He kept accusing me of cheating on him; he would thrash about apartment breaking things. He scared me. Then he hit me. That one hit was all it took. I left. I went to Jess and Mike's place.

When my Father found out, it was all I could do keep him from driving over and shooting James in the balls, not that the offer wasn't tempting mind you. Although I was no longer at our place, James wouldn't leave me alone. He would show up at Jess's place all hours of the morning and night drunk out of his mind and yelling for me. He would follow me to work and accost me. I was getting scared. As much as Mike and Eric tried to protect me, they were no match. James was a big guy, and a cop. He knew how to throw a punch and I couldn't watch my friends getting hurt for me, so I left for New York. I figured there was safety in numbers, and you couldn't get more numbers than the Big Apple.

Through one of Renee's hundreds of contacts, I found a small apartment in Brooklyn above a yoga studio. And, realizing that nothing made me happier than cooking, I found a job in a small bakery in Brooklyn Heights. Although I missed everyone tremendously, I felt safe. And, for the first time possibly in my whole life, I was truly comfortable. I loved waking up at 5 am, putting on some grubby clothes, throwing my hair in a bun, and baking. Nothing is as quiet as flour. Nothing is as safe as Apricot Danish. My new life suited me so well that I even started smiling again.

July rolled around, and it was time for the Bahama trip that I had decided to skip out on. Ok, so the tickets were non-refundable, and I hadn't seen my gang for almost 10 months. But if they thought any of that meant I wanted to go on an all couples trip to the Bahamas, they were dead wrong.

So when I found myself sitting on a beach, a Pina Colada in my hands on July 23rd, I was scowling. I should have known better then to think I could say no. I was a pushover when it came to my besties. To be fair though, the breeze and the heat felt amazing. There was a party every night on the beach, and I hadn't seen that many stars since I was living in Phoenix. So they were right; I did need the trip. And to spite myself, I was enjoying every minute. But I was still the 3rd, make that 5th wheel.