I'd thought Jake had been healing the hole in me–or at least plugging it up, keeping it from hurting me so much. I'd been wrong. He'd just been carving out his own hole, so that I was now riddled through like Swiss cheese. I wondered why I didn't crumble into pieces.
Charlie was waiting on the porch. As I rolled to a stop, he walked out to meet me. "Billy called. He said you got in fight with Jake–said you were pretty upset," he explained as he opened my door for me.
Then he looked at my face. A kind of horrified recognition registered in his expression. I tried to feel my face from the inside out, to know what he was seeing. My face felt empty and cold, and I realized what it would remind him of.
"That's not exactly how it happened," I muttered. Charlie put his arm around me and helped me out of the car. He didn't comment on my sodden clothes.
"Then what did happen'" he asked when we were inside. He pulled the afghan off the back of the sofa as he spoke and wrapped it around my shoulders. I realized I was shivering still.
My voice was lifeless. "Sam Uley says Jacob can't be my friend anymore." Charlie shot me a strange look. "Who told you that?" "Jacob," I stated, though that wasn't exactly what he'd said. It was still true.
Charlie's eyebrows pulled together. "You really think there's something wrong with the Uley kid?"
"I know there is. Jacob wouldn't tell me what, though." I could hear the water from my clothes dripping to the floor and splashing on the linoleum. "I'm going to go change." Charlie was lost in thought. "Okay," he said absently.
I decided to take a shower because I was so cold, but the hot water didn't seem to affect the temperature of my skin. I was still freezing when I gave up and shut the water off. In the sudden quiet, I could hear Charlie talking to someone downstairs. I wrapped a towel around me, and cracked the bathroom door.
Charlie's voice was angry. "I'm not buying that. It doesn't make any sense." It was quiet then, and I realized he was on the phone. A minute passed. "Don't you put this on Bella!" Charlie suddenly shouted.
I jumped. When he spoke again, his voice was careful and lower. "Bella's made it very clear all along that she and Jacob were just friends… Well, if that was it, then why didn't you say so at first? No, Billy, I think she's right about this… Because I know my daughter, and if she says Jacob was scared before–" He was cut off mid-sentence, and when he answered he was almost shouting again.
"What do you mean I don't know my daughter as well as I think I do!" He listened for a brief second, and his response was almost too low for me to hear. "If you think I'm going to remind her about that, then you had better think again. She's only just starting to get over it, and mostly because of Jacob, I think. If whatever Jacob has going on with this Sam character sends her back into that depression, then Jacob is going to have to answer to me. You're my friend, Billy, but this is hurting my family."
There was another break for Billy to respond.
"You got that right–those boys set one toe out of line and I'm going to know about it. We'll be keeping an eye on the situation, you can be sure of that." He was no longer Charlie; he was Chief Swan now.
"Fine. Yeah. Goodbye." The phone slammed into the cradle. I tiptoed quickly across the hall into my room. Charlie was muttering angrily in the kitchen. So Billy was going to blame me. I was leading Jacob on and he'd finally had enough.
It was strange, for I'd feared that myself, but after the last thing Jacob had said this afternoon, I didn't believe it anymore. There was much more to this than an unrequited crush, and it surprised me that Billy would stoop to claiming that. It made me think that whatever secret they were keeping was bigger than I'd been imagining. At least Charlie was on my side now.
I put my pajamas on and crawled into bed. Life seemed dark enough at the moment chat I let myself cheat. The hole–holes now–were already aching, so why not? I pulled out the memory–nor a real memory that would hurt too much, but the false memory of Edward's voice in my mind this afternoon–and played it over and over in my head until I fell asleep with the tears still streaming calmly down my empty face.
It was a new dream tonight. Rain was falling and Jacob was walking soundlessly beside me, though beneath my feet the ground crunched like dry gravel. But he wasn't my Jacob; he was the new, bitter, graceful Jacob. The smooth suppleness of his walk reminded me of someone else, and, as I watched, his features started to change. The russet color of his skin leached away, leaving his face pale white like bone. His eyes turned gold, and then crimson, and then back to gold again. His shorn hair twisted in the breeze, turning bronze where the wind touched it. And his face became so beautiful that it shattered my heart. I reached for him, but he took a step away, raising his hands like a shield. And then Edward vanished.