Hands on Me (A Twilight Fanfiction written by IndependentIndividuality)

Chapter Four: In Which There is No Running

DISCLAIMER I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THIS STORY. THE AUTHOR WROTE THIS AMAZING BOOK AND I HOPE SHE DOESN'T HATE ME. I REALLY JUST WANT TO SHARE. NO HATE ALL LOVE.

Chapter Four: In Which There is No Running

i have seen myself in a thousand faces, strung out on life's path

i would add up what you mean to me, but i cannot do the math

- vanessa carlton, come undone

I woke up the next morning feeling anxious. I had promised Jacob last night that I'd talk to him about anything that was bothering me, and very obviously he knew that something was, so I knew he was expecting a conversation. And I had promised him. As my best friend, I owed him that much.

But what to say?

My body felt tightly wound as I got out of bed. Another night of endless, amazing Jacob dreams had left my stomach in knots. Nice ones, though - ones I was dying to untie, not to ease discomfort, but because I was sure greater pleasure followed.

If I was a normal teenage girl, maybe I could enjoy the dreams, entertain silly thoughts privately in my head with no consequences. But I'm not a normal girl - I'm a half-vampire, half-human teenage girl with a mind-reading father and traitor palms that export my thoughts to anyone who touches.

So the dreams had to go. I was running on borrowed luck already, what with my parents staying at the big house every night to work on "wedding plans". I knew it was only a matter of time until it ran out and I was faced with utter humiliation and devastation in the form of discussing my Jacob dreams with my father. Or, well. Sitting red-faced and holding back tears as my father screamed at me about my Jacob dreams.

Either way, there could be no desirable end result to anyone finding out about those dreams. I would take the facial ticks and aggravated-air-through-nose noises for the rest of my existence and be grateful if it meant avoiding that conversation.

So, what to say to Jacob? And when to say it? The wedding was in three days and I was pretty sure Scary Aunt Alice was done torturing me for now, but I think she'd probably want to get to Jake (admittedly, my fault) before too long, and I wanted to do it before the wedding.

Or should I wait? I didn't want to ruin Grandpa Charlie's wedding, though, for him or myself by being all tense and worried about Jacob the entire time. So, before, then.

I guess I had my answer. Today. Ugh.

I dragged myself to the shower, tired and irritable. My feet were still sore from last night - I blocked the memory that popped into my mind of Scary Aunt Alice circuiting me around and around the shop in stilettos quickly, as I saw no need to start crying first thing in the morning.

I was caught completely unprepared, though, for the subsequent memory of Jacob's fingernail running across the sole of my sore foot and his strong hands - I stopped it right there. I was proud of myself.

It was about time, anyway. I was running out of outfits that covered my palms and I think even Jacob would begin to get suspicious if I started wearing his "skinny sweatshirt" everyday. I turned off the steaming water and wrapped myself and my hair each in a towel before returning to my room.

I was a little hungry and Grandma Esme told me last night (when I slouched, grumbling, through the big house to kiss my family so I could return to the cottage and pass out) that she'd make pancakes for breakfast. I'm sure she told Jake too, since they were his favorite, so he'd probably be there.

I kind of hoped he had patrol last night, even though I was pretty sure he didn't, so I could take a little while to compose myself and think of what to say. I threw on my panties and bra without much decision and grabbed the closest, comfortable-looking thing I could find.