New Moon (Twilight #2)(137)

His jaw tightened. "So eager for eternal damnation," he muttered.

"You know you don't really believe that."

"Oh, don't I?" he fumed.

"No. You don't."

He glowered at me and started to speak, but I cut him off.

"If you really believed that you'd lost your soul, then when I found you in Volterra, you would have realized immediately what was happening, instead of thinking we were both dead together. But you didn't - you said 'Amazing. Carlisle was right,'" I reminded him, triumphant. "There's hope in you, after all."

For once, Edward was speechless.

"So let's both just be hopeful, all right?" I suggested. "Not that it matters. If you stay, I don't need heaven."

He got up slowly, and came to put his hands on either side of my face as he stared into my eyes. "Forever," he vowed, still a little staggered.

"That's all I'm asking for," I said, and stretched up on my toes so that I could press my lips to his.

EPILOGUE TREATY

ALMOST EVERYTHING WAS BACK TO NORMAL - THE GOOD, pre-zombie normal - in less time than I would have believed possible. The hospital welcomed Carlisle back with eager arms, not even bothering to conceal their delight that Esme had found life in L.A. so little to her liking. Thanks to the Calculus test I'd missed while abroad, Alice and Edward were in better to shape to graduate than I was at the moment. Suddenly, college was a priority (college was still plan B, on the off chance that Edward's offer swayed me from the post-graduation Carlisle option). Many deadlines had passed me by, but Edward had a new stack of applications for me to fill out every day. He'd already done the Harvard route, so it didn't bother him that, thanks to my procrastination, we might both end up at Peninsula Community College next year.

Charlie was not happy with me, or speaking to Edward. But at least Edward was allowed - during my designated visiting hours - inside the house again. I just wasn't allowed out of it.

School and work were the only exceptions, and the dreary, dull yellow walls of my classrooms had become oddly inviting to me of late. That had a lot to do with the person who sat in the desk beside me.

Edward had resumed his schedule from the beginning of the year, which put him in most of my classes again. My behavior had been such last fall, after the Cullens' supposed move to L.A., that the seat beside me had never been filled. Even Mike, always eager to take any advantage, had kept a safe distance. With Edward back in place, it was almost as if the last eight months were just a disturbing nightmare.

Almost, but not quite. There was the house arrest situation, for one thing. And for another, before the fall, I hadn't been best friends with Jacob Black. So, of course, I hadn't missed him then.

I wasn't at liberty to go to La Push, and Jacob wasn't coming to see me. He wouldn't even answer my phone calls.

I made these calls mostly at night, after Edward had been kicked out - promptly at nine by a grimly gleeful Charlie - and before Edward snuck back through my window when Charlie was asleep. I chose that time to make my fruitless calls because I'd noticed that Edward made a certain face every time I mentioned Jacob's name. Sort of disapproving and wary... maybe even angry. I guessed that he had

some reciprocal prejudice against the werewolves, though he wasn't as vocal as Jacob had been about the "bloodsuckers."

So, I didn't mention Jacob much.

With Edward near me, it was hard to think about unhappy things - even my former besi fnend, who was probably very unhappy right now, due to me. When I did think of Jake, I always felt guilty for not thinking of him more.

The fairy tale was back on. Prince returned, bad spell broken. I wasn't sure exactly what to do about the leftover, unresolved character. Where was his happily ever after?

Weeks passed, and Jacob still wouldn't answer my calls. It started to become a constant worry. Like a dripping faucet in the back of my head that I couldn't shut off or ignore. Drip, drip, drip. Jacob, Jacob, Jacob.

So, though I didn't mention Jacob much, sometimes my frustration and anxiety boiled over.

"It's just plain rude!" I vented one Saturday afternoon when Edward picked me up from work. Being angry about things was easier than feeling guilty. "Downright insulting!"

I'd varied my pattern, in hopes of a different response. I'd called Jake from work this time, only to get an unhelpfulBilly.Again.

"Billy said he didn't want to talk to me," I fumed, glaring at the rain oozing down the passenger window.

"That he was there, and wouldn't walk three steps to get to the phone! Usually Billy just says he's out or busy or sleeping or something. I mean, it's not like I didn't know he was lying to me, but at least it was a polite way to handle it. I guess Billy hates me now, too. It's not fair!"

"It's not you, Bella," Edward said quietly. "Nobody hates you."

"Feels that way," I muttered, folding my arms across my chest. It was no more than a stubborn gesture. There was no hole there now - I could barely remember the empty feeling anymore.

"Jacob knows we're back, and I'm sure that he's ascertained that I'm with you," Edward said. "He won't come anywhere near me. The enmity is rooted too deeply."

"That's stupid. He knows you're not... like other vampires."