and Mike Newton; these three had all very generously forgiven me for going crazy when Edward left. Lauren
Mallory was the evil core of the them side, and almost everyone else, including my first friend in Forks,
Jessica Stanley, seemed content to go along with her anti-Bella agenda.
With Edward back at school, the dividing line had become even more distinct.
Edward’s return had taken its toll on Mike’s friendship, but Angela was unswervingly loyal, and Ben
followed her lead. Despite the natural aversion most humans felt toward the Cullens, Angela sat dutifully
beside Alice every day at lunch. After a few weeks, Angela even looked comfortable there. It was difficult not
to be charmed by the Cullens — once one gave them the chance to be charming.
“Outside of school?” Charlie asked, calling my attention back.
“I haven’t seen anyone outside of school, Dad. Grounded, remember? And Angela has a boyfriend, too.
She’s always with Ben. If I’m really free,” I added, heavy on the skepticism, “maybe we could double.”
“Okay. But then . . .” He hesitated. “You and Jake used to be joined at the hip, and now —”
I cut him off. “Can you get to the point, Dad? What’s your condition — exactly?”
“I don’t think you should dump all your other friends for your boyfriend, Bella,” he said in a stern voice.
“It’s not nice, and I think your life would be better balanced if you kept some other people in it. What
happened last September . . .”
I flinched.
“Well,” he said defensively. “If you’d had more of a life outside of Edward Cullen, it might not have been
like that.”
“It would have been exactly like that,” I muttered.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“The point?” I reminded him.
“Use your new freedom to see your other friends, too. Keep it balanced.”
I nodded slowly. “Balance is good. Do I have specific time quotas to fill, though?”
He made a face, but shook his head. “I don’t want to make this complicated. Just don’t forget your
friends . . .”
It was a dilemma I was already struggling with. My friends. People who, for their own safety, I would
never be able to see again after graduation.
So what was the better course of action? Spend time with them while I could? Or start the separation now
to make it more gradual? I quailed at the idea of the second option.
“. . . particularly Jacob,” Charlie added before I could think things through more than that.
A greater dilemma than the first. It took me a moment to find the right words. “Jacob might be . . .
difficult.”
“The Blacks are practically family, Bella,” he said, stern and fatherly again. “And Jacob has been a very,
very good friend to you.”
“I know that.”
“Don’t you miss him at all?” Charlie asked, frustrated.
My throat suddenly felt swollen; I had to clear it twice before I answered. “Yes, I do miss him,” I
admitted, still looking down. “I miss him a lot.”
“Then why is it difficult?”
It wasn’t something I was at liberty to explain. It was against the rules for normal people — human
people like me and Charlie — to know about the clandestine world full of myths and monsters that existed
secretly around us. I knew all about that world — and I was in no small amount of trouble as a result. I wasn’t
about to get Charlie in the same trouble.
“With Jacob there is a . . . conflict,” I said slowly. “A conflict about the friendship thing, I mean.
Friendship doesn’t always seem to be enough for Jake.” I wound my excuse out of details that were true but
insignificant, hardly crucial compared to the fact that Jacob’s werewolf pack bitterly hated Edward’s vampire
family — and therefore me, too, as I fully intended to join that family. It just wasn’t something I could work
out with him in a note, and he wouldn’t answer my calls. But my plan to deal with the werewolf in person had
definitely not gone over well with the vampires.
“Isn’t Edward up for a little healthy competition?” Charlie’s voice was sarcastic now.
I leveled a dark look at him. “There’s no competition.”
“You’re hurting Jake’s feelings, avoiding him like this. He’d rather be just friends than nothing.”
Oh, now I was avoiding him?
“I’m pretty sure Jake doesn’t want to be friends at all.” The words burned in my mouth. “Where’d you get
that idea, anyway?”
Charlie looked embarrassed now. “The subject might have come up today with Billy. . . .”
“You and Billy gossip like old women,” I complained, stabbing my fork viciously into the congealed
spaghetti on my plate.
“Billy’s worried about Jacob,” Charlie said. “Jake’s having a hard time right now. . . . He’s depressed.”
I winced, but kept my eyes on the blob.
“And then you were always so happy after spending the day with Jake.” Charlie sighed.
“I’m happy now,” I growled fiercely through my teeth.
The contrast between my words and tone broke through the tension. Charlie burst into laughter, and I had
to join in.
“Okay, okay,” I agreed. “Balance.”
“And Jacob,” he insisted.
“I’ll try.”
“Good. Find that balance, Bella. And, oh, yeah, you’ve got some mail,” Charlie said, closing the subject
with no attempt at subtlety. “It’s by the stove.”
I didn’t move, my thoughts twisting into snarls around Jacob’s name. It was most likely junk mail; I’d just
gotten a package from my mom yesterday and I wasn’t expecting anything else.
Charlie shoved his chair away from the table and stretched as he got to his feet. He took his plate to the
sink, but before he turned the water on to rinse it, he paused to toss a thick envelope at me. The letter skidded
across the table and thunked into my elbow.
“Er, thanks,” I muttered, puzzled by his pushiness. Then I saw the return address — the letter was from
the University of Alaska Southeast. “That was quick. I guess I missed the deadline on that one, too.”
Charlie chuckled.
I flipped the envelope over and then glared up at him. “It’s open.”
“I was curious.”
“I’m shocked, Sheriff. That’s a federal crime.”
“Oh, just read it.”
I pulled out the letter, and a folded schedule of courses.
“Congratulations,” he said before I could read anything. “Your first acceptance.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“We should talk about tuition. I’ve got some money saved up —”
“Hey, hey, none of that. I’m not touching your retirement, Dad. I’ve got my college fund.” What was left