The room started to shimmer a little around the edges.
I took another deep breath. “Don’t worry?! You sliced your hand open!”
He ignored the dish towel I pushed at him. He put his hand under the faucet and let the water wash over the wound. The water ran red. My head whirled.
“Bella,” he said.
I looked away from the wound, up to his face. He was frowning, but his expression was calm.
“What?”
“You look like you’re going to pass out, and you’re biting your lip off. Stop it. Relax. Breathe. I’m fine.”
I inhaled through my mouth and removed my teeth from my lower lip. “Don’t be brave.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Let’s go. I’ll drive you to the ER.” I was pretty sure I would be okay to drive. The walls were holding steady now, at least.
“Not necessary.” Jake turned off the water and took the towel from my hand. He twisted it loosely around his palm.
“Wait,” I protested. “Let me look at it.” I clutched the counter more firmly, to hold myself upright if the wound made me woozy again.
“Do you have a medical degree that you never told me about?”
“Just give me the chance to decide whether or not I’m going to throw a fit over taking you to the hospital.”
He made a face of mock horror. “Please, not a fit!”
“If you don’t let me see your hand, a fit is guaranteed.”
He inhaled deeply, and then let out a gusty sigh. “Fine.”
“I heal fast.”
“I’ll say,” I mouthed.
“Sure, sure. Why not?”
I pulled the plug, and let the dirty water drain from the sink.
He unwound the towel and, when I reached out to take the cloth, he laid his hand in mine.
It took me a few seconds. I even flipped his hand over, though I was sure he’d cut his palm. I turned his hand back up, finally realizing that the angry pink, puckered line was all that was left of his wound.
“But . . . you were bleeding . . . so much.”
He pulled his hand back, his eyes steady and somber on mine.
“Can I ask you something, Bella?”
I sighed.
“What’s it like — having a werewolf for a best friend?”
The question caught me off guard. I laughed out loud.
“Does it creep you out?” he pressed before I could answer.
“No. When the werewolf is being nice,” I qualified, “it’s the best.”
He grinned widely, his teeth bright against his russet skin. “Thanks, Bella,” he said, and then he grabbed my hand and wrenched me into one of his bone-crushing hugs.
Before I had time to react, he dropped his arms and stepped away.
“Ugh,” he said, his nose wrinkling. “Your hair stinks worse than your room.”
“Sorry,” I muttered. I suddenly understood what Edward had been laughing about earlier, after breathing on me.
“One of the many hazards of socializing with vampires,” Jacob said, shrugging. “It makes you smell bad. A minor hazard, comparatively.”
I glared at him. “I only smell bad to you, Jake.”
He grinned. “See you around, Bells.”
“Are you leaving?”
“He’s waiting for me to go. I can hear him outside.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll go out the back,” he said, and then he paused. “Hold up a sec — hey, do you think you can come to La Push tonight? We’re having a bonfire party. Emily will be there, and you could meet Kim . . . And I know Quil wants to see you, too. He’s pretty peeved that you found out before he did.”
I grinned at that. I could just imagine how that would have irked Quil — Jacob’s little human gal pal down with the werewolves while he was still clueless. And then I sighed. “Yeah, Jake, I don’t know about that. See, it’s a little tense right now. . . .”
“C’mon, you think somebody’s going to get past all — all six of us?”
There was a strange pause as he stuttered over the end of his question. I wondered if he had trouble saying the word werewolf aloud, the way I often had difficulty with vampire.
His big dark eyes were full of unashamed pleading.
“I’ll ask,” I said doubtfully.
He made a noise in the back of his throat. “Is he your warden, now, too? You know, I saw this story on the news last week about controlling, abusive teenage relationships and —”
“Okay!” I cut him off, and then shoved his arm. “Time for the werewolf to get out!”
He grinned. “Bye, Bells. Be sure you ask permission.”
He ducked out the back door before I could find something to throw at him. I growled incoherently at the empty room.
Seconds after he was gone, Edward walked slowly into the kitchen, raindrops glistening like diamonds set into the bronze of his hair. His eyes were wary.
“Did you two get into a fight?” he asked.
“Edward!” I sang, throwing myself at him.
“Hi, there.” He laughed and wrapped his arms around me. “Are you trying to distract me? It’s working.”
“No, I didn’t fight with Jacob. Much. Why?”
“I was just wondering why you stabbed him. Not that I object.” With his chin, he gestured to the knife on the counter.
“Dang! I thought I got everything.”
I pulled away from him and ran to put the knife in the sink before I doused it with bleach.
“I didn’t stab him,” I explained as I worked. “He forgot he had a knife in his hand.”
Edward chuckled. “That’s not nearly as fun as the way I imagined it.”
“Be nice.”
He took a big envelope from his jacket pocket and tossed it on the counter. “I got your mail.”
“Anything good?”
“I think so.”
My eyes narrowed suspiciously at his tone. I went to investigate.
He’d folded the legal-sized envelope in half. I smoothed it open, surprised at the weight of the expensive paper, and read the return address.
“Dartmouth? Is this a joke?”
“I’m sure it’s an acceptance. It looks exactly like mine.”
“Good grief, Edward — what did you do?”
“I sent in your application, that’s all.”
“I may not be Dartmouth material, but I’m not stupid enough to believe that.”
“Dartmouth seems to think that you’re Dartmouth material.”
I took a deep breath and counted slowly to ten. “That’s very generous of them,” I finally said. “However, accepted or not, there is still the minor matter of tuition. I can’t afford it, and I’m not letting you throw away enough money to buy yourself another sports car just so that I can pretend to go to Dartmouth next year.”
“I don’t need another sports car. And you don’t have to pretend anything,” he murmured. “One year of college wouldn’t kill you. Maybe you’d even like it. Just think about it, Bella. Imagine how excited Charlie and Renée would be. . . .”
His velvet voice painted the picture in my head before I could block it. Of course Charlie would explode with
