The Twilight Saga Collection part 1(339)

I barreled down the wet highway, turning the windshield wipers on high and ignoring the groan of the ancient engine. Fifty-five was the most I could coax out of my truck, and I prayed it would be enough.

I had no clue where the boundary line was, but I began to feel safer as I passed the first houses outside La Push. This must be beyond where Alice was allowed to follow.

I’d call her when I got to Angela’s this afternoon, I reasoned, so that she’d know I was fine. There was no reason for her to get worked up. She didn’t need to be mad at me — Edward would be angry enough for two when he got back.

My truck was positively wheezing by the time it grated to a stop in front of the familiar faded red house. The lump came back to my throat as I stared at the little place that had once been my refuge. It had been so long since I’d been here.

Before I could cut the engine, Jacob was standing in the door, his face blank with shock.

In the sudden silence when the truck-roar died, I heard him gasp.

“Bella?”

“Hey, Jake!”

“Bella!” he yelled back, and the smile I’d been waiting for stretched across his face like the sun breaking free of the clouds. His teeth gleamed bright against his russet skin. “I can’t believe it!”

He ran to the truck and half-yanked me through the open door, and then we were both jumping up and down like kids.

“How did you get here?”

“I snuck out!”

“Awesome!”

“Hey, Bella!” Billy had rolled himself into the doorway to see what all the commotion was about.

“Hey, Bil —!”

Just then my air choked off — Jacob grabbed me up in a bear hug too tight to breathe and swung me around in a circle.

“Wow, it’s good to see you here!”

“Can’t . . . breathe,” I gasped.

He laughed and put me down.

“Welcome back, Bella,” he said, grinning. And the way he said the words made it sound like welcome home.


We started walking, too keyed up to sit still in the house. Jacob was practically bouncing as he moved, and I had to remind him a few times that my legs weren’t ten feet long.

As we walked, I felt myself settling into another version of myself, the self I had been with Jacob. A little younger, a little less responsible. Someone who might, on occasion, do something really stupid for no good reason.

Our exuberance lasted through the first few topics of conversation: how we were doing, what we were up to, how long I had, and what had brought me here. When I hesitantly told him about the wolf flyer, his bellowing laugh echoed back from the trees.

But then, as we ambled past the back of the store and shoved through the thick scrub that ringed the far edge of First Beach, we got to the hard parts. All too soon we had to talk about the reasons behind our long separation, and I watched as the face of my friend hardened into the bitter mask that was already too familiar.

“So what’s the story, anyway?” Jacob asked me, kicking a piece of driftwood out of his way with too much force. It sailed over the sand and then clattered against the rocks. “I mean, since the last time we . . . well, before, you know . . .” He struggled for the words. He took a deep breath and tried again. “What I’m asking is . . . everything is just back to the way it was before he left? You forgave him for all of that?”

I took a deep breath. “There was nothing to forgive.”

I wanted to skip past this part, the betrayals, the accusations, but I knew that we had to talk it through before we’d be able to move on to anything else.

Jacob’s face puckered up like he’d just licked a lemon. “I wish Sam had taken a picture when he found you that night last September. It would be exhibit A.”

“Nobody’s on trial.”

“Maybe somebody should be.”

“Not even you would blame him for leaving, if you knew the reason why.”

He glared at me for a few seconds. “Okay,” he challenged acidly. “Amaze me.”

His hostility was wearing on me — chafing against the raw; it hurt to have him angry with me. It reminded me of the bleak afternoon, long ago, when — under orders from Sam — he’d told me we couldn’t be friends. I took a second to compose myself.

“Edward left me last fall because he didn’t think I should be hanging out with vampires. He thought it would be healthier for me if he left.”

Jacob did a double take. He had to scramble for a minute. Whatever he’d been planning to say, it clearly no longer applied. I was glad he didn’t know the catalyst behind Edward’s decision. I could only imagine what he’d think if he knew Jasper had tried to kill me.