Jacob Black's Playmate; Edward Cullen's Singer

Chapter 8- It Wasnt You?

Chapter 8-It Wasn't You?

Two hours later I woke up drowsy. Everything around me was a blurry mess and I felt my head spinning. This ache reminded me to grab my pills--which I couldn't find at the moment. I looked around blindly and saw a white figure at the side of my bed. I jumped back and fell on the floor when a hand grabbed my arm so my face was only two inches from the floor.

Startled, I snapped around but the minute I did there was no one there and I kissed the floor. "Oof!"

Eventually I crawled back into bed. My limbs were screaming to go back to sleep.

"Honey, you're not going to school today. Your blood count's too low." Mom disagreed. I sighed and slumped into the chair. It was breakfast time on any other day, like around 10.  I glared at mom from over my cereal bowl. When she didn't look up I sighed irritably and snatched the box of Captain Crunch. 

I crunched down my first bite and swallowed. "But I feel up for it! Why can't I?"  Mom put her pencil down, she had the last straw. I've never heard her protest against school but I guess I will now.

"Why are you so adamant about going to school? Not that that's a problem..." 

My obstinacy was unexplainable to me.  I couldn't tell my mother the only reason for attending school was Edward Cullen. But my anemia ceased that possibility today.

So, after breakfast,  I trudged back upstairs and plopped down at my desk. I do feel dizzy, and I wouldn't disagree going back to bed.  I spot something new on my dresser.

I get up and walk over, balancing myself and looking down it's a square metal object much like my phone--which I lost at the incident.

"Holy crap!" I exclaimed when I found out it was very much my phone--at least a replacement of my old one. Hopping back on the bed, I turned the phone on and the local service welcomed me on screen. When it activated I found I had seven voice mails and ten messages.

Someone took the time to return my service?

I checked the messages, mom, dad, and a number that I found was Jake's. I thought I logged in his number.

The fact that Jake's contact  was lost from my phone stayed in my mind also with the question of just who exactly planted a new phone in my bedroom. All I remember is a pale figure beside my bed, but even that could be a dream.

I laid back in bed with the phone in my hands. Whoever took the time to do all this knew that I lost my phone--which actually rules out a lot of people. 

Jake.

Mom.

Cullen.

They were all with me last night. But Mom could barely afford the time to go out and buy another phone, was it even in our insurance?

"Couldn't be mom." I placed the phone beside the alarm clock and turned in bed. I didn't feel like worrying or questioning about it further. I figured I'll just thank the person. Jake, of course. Because Cullen, well, he just couldn't. So, I drifted off into sleep. 

I found dad at the dinner table after I woke. He looked pale and kneaded his hands worriedly.

"Dad, you okay?" I asked gently. I pulled up a chair next to him. He just smiled, it was weak and worried me.

He brought me in a hug. "I should've made you stay, you know." His voice was hoarse.

I was surprised at why I was asking this. Why I needed to ask it was ridiculous. 

"Dad....were you crying?"

He rubbed his head on top of mine and sniffed. He didn't deny it. If anything that sniff confirmed it. I adjusted myself so I could wrap my arms around him. "Sorry dad."

He sniffed again, "You're just so young, you know?" His third sniff was so hard I was afraid he would sniff my hair in his nostrils. I pulled away.

"Hey, Dad I'm seventeen."

"Still doesn't mean you're not my daughter." I nodded and patted his back.

"Yeah, I am your daughter." I smiled gently, feeling the fatherly affection and compassion. A few tears swam up in my eyes and a tear rolled down my cheek before I caught it in its trail. 

"Promise you won't let it happen again?" He looked up and even though he tried to be hearty about it I could see the regret in his red rimmed eyes. He held up his pinkie. I breathed out a laugh. 

"I won't let it happen." I hooked my pinkie in his. 

I was in my room when I heard the tapping sound on my window. When I walked over I slid it open just in time for another pebble to come flying through and hit me in the center of my forehead.

"Sorry!" I heard a chuckle in Jake's voice and I looked down, still rubbing my head.

I scoffed, "Do you know what time it is?"

Even in the single street light I could see his bright smile. "Course I do."

"Hold on." I shut the window and jogged downstairs, missing my dad by a hair and out the door. When I reached Jake he smiled over. "You feeling better?"

"Yeah. What're you doing out here?"

"Just figured fresh air couldn't hurt you. I didn't want to go through the front door, I didn't want to wake your parents."

I sighed. "We weren't sleep. I was just consoling my dad...he was worried. He had quite a scare. He even cried. I never wanted that to happen but I thought I had it under control."

"It doesn't mean you could fight them off." I peered at Jake's face because his tone grew serious and a little rigid. My face instantly fell.  He faced me.

"Aly, I was worried too. I didn't want that to happen either." I understood, and I felt bad at what I asked next."Did you cry?" I wanted to see how Jake was like. If he was like my father. He didn't answer right away. Instead he continued to look at me. "Did you cry?" He countered. 

That meant a lot to me actually. I looked down and remembered the phone.

"Thanks. For treating my wounds and for the new phone."

His brow furrowed. "Phone? Aly, I didn't get you a phone."His dark face contorted into confusion.  I would argue but Jake seriously didn't know what I was saying.

But that led me back to confusion and maybe an answer that I would rather avoid. Or just scratch out from its irrationality.

"Then....It was...."

Cullen.

Updated:  November.27.2015

p.s. Happy late Thanksgiving. I couldn't update because of the wonderful feast I had at my aunt's house. And partially because of my writer's block that I'm still suffering from. Feedback is encouraged!