New Moon

I tried to shove him back out the window—after all, if this was a dream, it wouldn't really hurt him. It was useless, though. I didn't budge him an inch. I dropped my hands quickly, and stepped away from him.

He wasn't wearing a shirt, though the air blowing in the window was cold enough to make me shiver, and it made me uncomfortable to have my hands on his bare chest. His skin was burning hot, like his head had been the last time I'd touched him. Like he was still sick with the fever.

He didn't look sick. He looked huge. He leaned over me, so big that he blacked out the window, tongue-tied by my furious reaction.

Suddenly, it was just more than I could handle—it felt as if all of my sleepless nights were crashing down on me en masse. I was so brutally tired that I thought I might collapse right there on the floor. I swayed unsteadily, and struggled to keep my eyes open.

'Bella?' Jacob whispered anxiously. He caught my elbow as I swayed again, and steered me back to the bed. My legs gave out when I reached the edge, and I plopped into a limp heap on the mattress.

'Hey, are you okay?' Jacob asked, worry creasing his forehead.

I looked up at him, the tears not yet dried on my cheeks. 'Why in the world would I be okay, Jacob?'

Anguish replaced some of the bitterness in his face. 'Right,' he agreed, and took a deep breath. 'Crap. Well… I—I'm so sorry, Bella.' The apology was sincere, no doubt about it, though there was still an angry twist to his features.

'Why did you come here? I don't want apologies from you, Jake.'

'I know,' he whispered. 'But I couldn't leave things the way I did this afternoon. Thar was horrible. I'm sorry.'

I shook my head wearily. 'I don't understand anything.'

'I know. I want to explain—' He broke off suddenly, his mouth open, almost like something had cut off his air. Then he sucked in a deep breath. 'But I can't explain,' he said, still angry. 'I wish I could.'

I let my head fall into my hands. My question came out muffled by my arm. 'Why?'

He was quiet for a moment. I twisted my head to the side—too tired to hold it up—to see his expression. It surprised me. His eyes were squinted, his teeth clenched, his forehead wrinkled in effort.

'What's wrong?' I asked.

He exhaled heavily, and I realized he'd been holding his breath, too. 'I can't do it,' he muttered, frustrated.

'Do what?'

He ignored my question. 'Look, Bella, haven't you ever had a secret that you couldn't tell anyone?'

He looked at me with knowing eyes, and my thoughts jumped immediately to the Cullens. I hoped my expression didn't look guilty.

'Something you felt like you had to keep from Charlie, from your mom… ?' he pressed. 'Something you won't even talk about with me? Not even now?'

I felt my eyes tighten. I didn't answer his question, though I knew he would take that as a confirmation.

'Can you understand that I might have the same kind of… situation?' He was struggling again, seeming to fight for the right words. 'Sometimes, loyalty gets in the way of what you want to do. Sometimes, it's not your secret to tell.'

So, I couldn't argue with that. He was exactly right—I had a secret that wasn't mine to tell, yet a secret I felt bound to protect. A secret that, suddenly, he seemed to know all about.

I still didn't see how it applied to him, or Sam, or Billy. What was it to them, now that the Cullens were gone?

'I don't know why you came here, Jacob, if you were just going to give me riddles instead of answers.'

'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'This is so frustrating.'

We looked at each other for a long moment in the dark room, both our faces hopeless.

'The part that kills me,' he said abruptly, 'is that you already know. I already told yon everything!'

'What are you talking about?'

He sucked in a startled breath, and then leaned toward me, his face shifting from hopelessness to blazing intensity in a second. He stared fiercely into my eyes, and his voice was fast and eager. He spoke the words right into my face; his breath was as hot as his skin.

'I think I see a way to make this work out—because you know this, Bella! I can't tell you, but if you guessed it! That would let me right off the hook!'

'You want me to guess? Guess what?'

'My secret! You can do it—you know the answer!'

I blinked twice, trying to clear my head. I was so tired. Nothing he said made sense.

He took in my blank expression, and then his face tensed with effort again. 'Hole on, let me see if I give you some help,' he said. Whatever he was trying to do, it was so hard he was panting.

'Help?' I asked, trying to keep up. My lids wanted to slip closed, but I forced them open.

'Yeah,' he said, breathing hard. 'Like clues.'

He took my face in his enormous, too-warm hands and held it just a few inches from his. He stared into my eyes while he whispered, as if to communicate something besides the words he spoke.

'Remember the first day we met—on the beach in La Push?'

'Of course I do.'

'Tell me about it.'

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. 'You asked about my truck…'

He nodded, urging me on.

'We talked about the Rabbit…'

'Keep going.'

'We went for a walk down the beach…' My cheeks were growing warm under his palms as I remembered, but he wouldn't notice, hot as his skin was. I'd asked him to walk with me, flirting ineptly but successfully, in order to pump him for information.

He was nodding, anxious for more.

My voice was nearly soundless. 'You told me scary stories… Quileute legends.'

He closed his eyes and opened them again. 'Yes.' The word was tense, fervent, like he was on the edge of something vital. He spoke slowly, making each word distinct. 'Do you remember what I said?'

Even in the dark, he must be able to see the change in the color of my face. How could I ever forget that? Without realizing what he was doing, Jacob had told me exactly what I needed to know that day—that Edward was a vampire.

He looked at me with eyes that knew too much. 'Think hard,' he told me.

'Yes, I remember,' I breathed.

He inhaled deeply, struggling. 'Do you remember all the stor—' He couldn't finish the question. His mouth popped open like something had stuck in his throat.

'All the stories?' I asked.

He nodded mutely.

My head churned. Only one story really mattered. I knew he'd begun with others, but I couldn't remember the inconsequential prelude, especially not while my brain was so clouded with exhaustion. I started to shake my head.

Jacob groaned and jumped off the bed. He pressed his fists against his forehead and breathed fast and angry. 'You know this, you know this,' he muttered to himself.

'Jake? Jake, please, I'm exhausted. I'm no good at this right now. Maybe in the morning…'

He took a steadying breath and nodded. 'Maybe it will come back to you. I guess I understand why you only remember the one story,' he added in a sarcastic, bitter tone. He plunked back onto the mattress beside me. 'Do you mind if I ask you a question about that?' he asked, still sarcastic. 'I've been dying ro know.'

'A question about what?' I asked warily.

'About the vampire story I told you.'

I stared at him with guarded eyes, unable to answer. He asked his question anyway.