The Twilight Saga Collection part 2(57)

“Bella?” Charlie called from the doorway of the restaurant, squinting into the darkness.

“I’m out here.”

Charlie sauntered out to the car, muttering about impatience.

“So, how do you feel?” he asked me as we drove north along the highway. “It’s been a big day.”

“I feel fine,” I lied.

He laughed, seeing through me easily. “Worried about the party?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” I lied again.

This time he didn’t notice. “You were never one for the parties.”

“Wonder where I got that from,” I murmured.

Charlie chuckled. “Well, you look really nice. I wish I’d thought to get you something. Sorry.”

“Don’t be silly, Dad.”

“It’s not silly. I feel like I don’t always do everything for you that I should.”

“That’s ridiculous. You do a fantastic job. World’s best dad. And . . .” It wasn’t easy to talk about feelings with Charlie, but I persevered after clearing my throat. “And I’m really glad I came to live with you, Dad. It was the best idea I ever had. So don’t worry — you’re just experiencing post-graduation pessimism.”

He snorted. “Maybe. But I’m sure I slipped up in a few places. I mean, look at your hand!”

I stared down blankly at my hands. My left hand rested lightly on the dark brace I rarely thought about. My broken knuckle didn’t hurt much anymore.

“I never thought I needed to teach you how to throw a punch. Guess I was wrong about that.”

“I thought you were on Jacob’s side?”

“No matter what side I’m on, if someone kisses you without your permission, you should be able to make your feelings clear without hurting yourself. You didn’t keep your thumb inside your fist, did you?”

“No, Dad. That’s kind of sweet in a weird way, but I don’t think lessons would have helped. Jacob’s head is really hard.”

Charlie laughed. “Hit him in the gut next time.”

“Next time?” I asked incredulously.

“Aw, don’t be too hard on the kid. He’s young.”

“He’s obnoxious.”

“He’s still your friend.”

“I know.” I sighed. “I don’t really know what the right thing to do here is, Dad.”

Charlie nodded slowly. “Yeah. The right thing isn’t always real obvious. Sometimes the right thing for one person is the wrong thing for someone else. So . . . good luck figuring that out.”

“Thanks,” I muttered dryly.

Charlie laughed again, and then frowned. “If this party gets too wild . . . ,” he began.

“Don’t worry about it, Dad. Carlisle and Esme are going to be there. I’m sure you can come, too, if you want.”

Charlie grimaced as he squinted through the windshield into the night. Charlie enjoyed a good party just about as much as I did.

“Where’s the turnoff, again?” he asked. “They ought to clear out their drive — it’s impossible to find in the dark.”

“Just around the next bend, I think.” I pursed my lips. “You know, you’re right — it is impossible to find. Alice said she put a map in the invitation, but even so, maybe everyone will get lost.” I cheered up slightly at the idea.

“Maybe,” Charlie said as the road curved to the east. “Or maybe not.”

The black velvet darkness was interrupted ahead, just where the Cullens’ drive should be. Someone had wrapped the trees on either side in thousands of twinkle lights, impossible to miss.

“Alice,” I said sourly.

“Wow,” Charlie said as we turned onto the drive. The two trees at the entry weren’t the only ones lit. Every twenty feet or so, another shining beacon guided us toward the big white house. All the way — all three miles of the way.

“She doesn’t do things halfway, does she?” Charlie mumbled in awe.

“Sure you don’t want to come in?”

“Extremely sure. Have fun, kid.”

“Thanks so much, Dad.”

He was laughing to himself as I got out and shut the door. I watched him drive away, still grinning. With a sigh, I marched up the stairs to endure my party.





17. ALLIANCE


“BELLA?”

Edward’s soft voice came from behind me. I turned to see him spring lightly up the porch steps, his hair windblown from running. He pulled me into his arms at once, just like he had in the parking lot, and kissed me again.

This kiss frightened me. There was too much tension, too strong an edge to the way his lips crushed mine — like he was afraid we only had so much time left to us.