"So, how did you end up here tonight?" I asked without true curiosity. Considering Edward's reaction, I could guess.
"Can you believe my dad paid me twenty bucks to come to your prom?" he admitted, slightly ashamed.
"Yes, I can," I muttered. "Well, I hope you're enjoying yourself, at least. Seen anything you like?" I teased, nodding toward a group of girls lined up against the wall like pastel confections.
"Yeah," he sighed. "But she's taken."
He glanced down to meet my curious gaze for just a second-then we both looked away, embarrassed.
"You look really pretty, by the way," he added shyly.
"Um, thanks. So why did Billy pay you to come here?" I asked quickly, though I knew the answer.
Jacob didn't seem grateful for the subject change; he looked away, uncomfortable again. "He said it was a 'safe' place to talk to you. I swear the old man is losing his mind."
I joined in his laughter weakly.
"Anyway, he said that if I told you something, he would get me that master cylinder I need," he confessed with a sheepish grin.
"Tell me, then. I want you to get your car finished." I grinned back. At least Jacob didn't believe any of this. It made the situation a bit easier. Against the wall, Edward was watching my face, his own face expressionless. I saw a sophomore in a pink dress eyeing him with timid speculation, but he didn't seem to be aware of her.
Jacob looked away again, ashamed. "Don't get mad, okay?"
"There's no way I'll be mad at you, Jacob," I assured him. "I won't even be mad at Billy. Just say what you have to."
"Well-this is so stupid, I'm sorry, Bella-he wants you to break up with your boyfriend. He asked me to tell you 'please.'" He shook his head in disgust.
"He's still superstitious, eh?"
"Yeah. He was . . . kind of over the top when you got hurt down in Phoenix. He didn't believe . . ." Jacob trailed off self-consciously.
My eyes narrowed. "I fell."
"I know that," Jacob said quickly.
"He thinks Edward had something to do with me getting hurt." It wasn't a question, and, despite my promise, I was angry.
Jacob wouldn't meet my eyes. We weren't even bothering to sway to the music, though his hands were still on my waist, and mine around his neck.
"Look, Jacob, I know Billy probably won't believe this, but just so you know"-he looked at me now, responding to the new earnestness in my voice-"Edward really did save my life. If it weren't for Edward and his father, I'd be dead."
"I know," he claimed, but he sounded like my sincere words had affected him some. Maybe he'd be able to convince Billy of this much, at least.
"Hey, I'm sorry you had to come do this, Jacob," I apologized. "At any rate, you get your parts, right?"
"Yeah," he muttered. He was still looking awkward . . . upset.
"There's more?" I asked in disbelief.
"Forget it," he mumbled, "I'll get a job and save the money myself."
I glared at him until he met my gaze. "Just spit it out, Jacob."
"It's so bad."
"I don't care. Tell me," I insisted.
"Okay . . . but, geez, this sounds bad." He shook his head. "He said to tell you, no, to warn you, that-and this is his plural, not mine"-he lifted one hand from my waist and made little quotation marks in the air-"'We'll be watching.'" He watched warily for my reaction.
It sounded like something from a mafia movie. I laughed out loud.
"Sorry you had to do this, Jake," I snickered.
"I don't mind that much." He grinned in relief. His eyes were appraising as they raked quickly over my dress. "So, should I tell him you said to butt the hell out?" he asked hopefully.
"No," I sighed. "Tell him I said thanks. I know he means well."
The song ended, and I dropped my arms.
His hands hesitated at my waist, and he glanced at my bum leg. "Do you want to dance again? Or can I help you get somewhere?"
Edward answered for me. "That's all right, Jacob. I'll take it from here."
Jacob flinched, and stared wide-eyed at Edward, who stood just beside us.
"Hey, I didn't see you there," he mumbled. "I guess I'll see you around, Bella." He stepped back, waving halfheartedly.
I smiled. "Yeah, I'll see you later."
"Sorry," he said again before he turned for the door.
Edward's arms wound around me as the next song started. It was a little up-tempo for slow dancing, but that didn't seem to concern him. I leaned my head against his chest, content.
"Feeling better?" I teased.
"Not really," he said tersely.