Fanfiction Based On Stephenie Meyers Twilight Series Rated MA For Mature Adult

Suicide King
By RacketGhost & Nightshade

Summary: First things first, stay calm. We're all going to die someday, and although the precept
sounds strange-- make sure you die at the right age. AU, AH. A severely twisted sci-fi, quantum mechanic-induced plot awaits. Read at your own risk.

Chapter 1. Two Of Clubs I never really gave any thought to how I would die. I figured it would be cancer. A lot of people die from cancer. You can get cancer anywhere. Like anal cancer, or colon cancer, or liver cancer. Most people dont really give any thought to their anus or colon or liver. Well, maybe the liver. I was sitting in my room, in my parents big house, listening to my dad play Louis Armstrongs What a Wonderful World on his old turntable. My parents were rich. Well, my adopted parents were. My birth parents were some six feet under, toes up, pushing up daisies, all those cutesy little euphemisms for death. I couldnt say that I cared much it wasnt like I really knew my parents at all. They were ritzy socialites. They drank champagne and my father smoked Cuban cigars that smelled like shit lit on fire. I was left home a lot. So when they turned-up one night upside-down in their car, on the banks of the Chicago River, just off Randolph Street, I couldnt have found myself to be very surprised. I was only five. They say five year olds cant really grasp something as catastrophic as a death of a parent. Im inclined to agree I still dont feel a thing. So when I was adopted by Esme and Carlisle Cullen, who lived leaps and bounds away in a tiny town called Forks, I really didnt care much. He was a doctor. She was a stay at home mom of two other adopted children: Alice and Emmett. Alice was something like a shot of Tequila. Small, in a cute, deceiving color, and outright wicked going down. Emmett desperately needed a shower, but had a good heart underneath his perpetually sweating pectoral muscles.

So here I was, a bored seventeen year-old boy with a bad case of bed-head and birth-parents who were cruel enough to name me Edward. I never really gave much thought to how I would die until I did. Carlisle had a gun. It was a beauty of a revolver. A Webley MK IV the standard sidearm of the British army in the 1920s. Carlisle had a bit of a British fetishism. There were little British things scattered all over the house, most of them serving-ware: he had Minton & Co. bone china dining-ware in a heinous willow pattern, a sterling silver Wallace Grande Baroque five-piece tea set, more Royal Albert dessert plates in Cameo Pink than any one straight man should own. At least he didnt have an accent. I had a friend at school named Jasper. He was from the deep South the bowels of Texas that dipped into Mexico at times. He had a heavy twang that was testament to his Texan roots. He wore a cowboy hat. He was a walking clich. Jasper liked guns. More specifically, he liked Civil War era firearms and could rattle off the specs of any given rifle and a few of the revolvers too. Jasper was a Confederate. He detested the Union with a spite that was somewhat infectious, and would often digress into a maniacal tirade any time the Civil War was brought up. So when I brought Jasper over that day, and pulled out Carlisles Webley MK IV He knew all about the top-break loading action and the automatic extraction. He knew all about how the Webley was one of the most powerful top-break revolvers ever produced, and how it gobbled up vintage .455 Webley caliber cartridges. He also knew that from the second I held it against my temple, and jokingly pulled back the hammer, that I didnt stand a chance.

Chapter 2. Ace Of Spades Jasper and I sat in the cafeteria, alone at our round table. We were something like misfits. We didnt fit into any particular category. We were smart, but we did not care enough about our intelligence to be considered nerds. We were in shape, but not enough to be considered for a sports team. We hated jocks and their varsity volleyball girlfriends who had legs that stretched for miles and breasts like tanned watermelons. We werent popular, or gothic, or burn-outs. We didnt smoke, weed or otherwise. We didnt hang out beneath the pavilion on the school grounds in our black clothes and gauged ears. We didnt take AP classes or run for Student Council or organize school events. We got to class on time, did our homework without complaint, and were otherwise very bored with the flora and fauna in high school ecosystems. There were a few alien species like us. They were mostly stragglers who occasionally banded together for lunch or team sports in gym class. But otherwise, we all stayed to ourselves. Stereotypes were formed when misfits created a coterie. And the last thing any of us the vagrant, bored, perpetually eye-rolling mavericks of high school needed, was to be pigeonholed into some vaguely depreciatory adjective encompassing a new species of stereotype. My own siblings didnt even want to sit with me. Emmett was what wed call a jock, but not in the conventional sense. He loved sports pure and simple. But he had a love of the game that wasnt short-sighted or glory-seeking. He was kinesthetic. He had honed his body into a finally-made machine from countless hours in the gym. He could individually move his pectoral muscles. I was freakishly jealous.

Alice was a cheerleader, but again, she didnt quite fit that mold either. She wasnt a bimbo, and she was often the target of gossip because of her unquestionable beauty and her sharp tongue. It would be safe to say that none of us are who we seem. Jasper gazed longingly over at Alice. I rolled my eyes. Would you please stop lusting over my adoptive sister? He dipped his head, his eyes immediately shielded by his hat. I cant help it. Shes divine. Divine? Jazz, youre scaring me. He glanced back over his shoulder. Alice was rolling an apple in her hands. Shes like Snow White. I glared at him. I get it. The white skin. The black hair. But really, she barely knows you exist. She knows Im your best friend. And youre her brother of course she knows I exist. Well why dont you charm the pants right off of her then? Half of the girls in this school swoon when you so much as smile in their general direction. Shes different. She acts like I dont exist. I sighed, already growing weary of Jaspers incessant pining for my adoptive sibling. I brought out a pack of cards. You want to deal? I caught Jaspers level gaze beneath the wide brim of his hat. You do it. His eyes wandered back over his shoulder again. Sure, I grabbed the deck and began to shuffle. I exclusively used Bee playing cards they were more consistent in cut, made of paper and not plastic. I cut the deck and began to deal. As I dealt, I watched the people around us. We were seated in the corner of the cafeteria. Alice and Emmett and a few of their friends on the soccer team sat three tables away. Jasper always sat with his back to the rest of the high school population I always faced out. A slight girl in a red sweatshirt, hood drawn up, passed near our table. I recognized her she was one of us: those who do not fit in a stereotype. But then again, maybe we did. We were, after all, an us. Her dark eyes shot towards me for a second, as if she had heard something of interest. She kept moving. I dealt into five piles, the center pile stacked twelve cards high, the side stacks held ten. Your turn, Jazz. I nodded towards him. His hand hovered over a deck, then turned and picked up a card. He smirked. Five of clubs, he grinned proudly and flicked the card around to show me. I scowled and drew from the center pile. Ace of spades. I groaned and dropped my head down on the table. I threw the card toward him. He laughed. Ace of spades on the first draw? I think you have bad luck, Cullen.

I picked up four extra cards as per the rules, and proudly showed them off. All numbers for me. Your move, Whitlock. We played like that for a while, laughing at each others expense, until finally one card remained, and it was my turn. Alice interrupted us. Brother dear, youre going to be late for class. She tapped her foot and pointed to the clock. The cafeteria was emptying. Were just about finished. I glanced over at Jasper, wishing he would wipe that shit-eating grin off his face already. The bastard already knew hed won, and hed done it in front of Alice. He would talk about this for weeks. What are you two always playing, anyway? She pulled out a chair and perched on the edge of it. Suicide King. Alice wrinkled her nose, Thats an odd name for a card game. Jaspers laughter was full of mirth. Why is it called that? Why dont you show her, Edward? Jaspers eyes gleamed from beneath his cowboy hat. I scowled back at him and flipped the remaining card over: The King of Hearts. Its called Suicide King because the King of Hearts is stabbing himself. Its called Suicide King because when you draw this card youre out. Her face dropped, became deathly pale. Alice looked past the card I was holding to her face, and into my eyes. Are you out, Edward? Alice was perceptive beyond belief. She was borderline prophetic. I nodded. Sure am. Jasper followed me home. Carlisle was working, Esme was out with friends. I took Jasper upstairs, to my room that didnt have a bed, and told him to wait on my leather couch while I went rifling through my adoptive dads closet. There. The gun was in a shoebox, wrapped in oil-cloth. The box smelled like grease. When I made it back to my room, Jasper took note of the gun immediately. Is that a Webley? He asked, looking eager, his hands flexing in his lap. Yep, I said proudly, sitting down beside him. God damn, he whistled appreciatively, running his fingers over the barrel. Its not loaded, is it? It was so relaxing to be around Jasper. Especially a Jasper that wasnt currently obsessed with Alice. Nah, Carlisle would never leave a loaded gun in his closet. I turned the butt of the revolver around to hand it to him. Hold it. Jasper grabbed it, tilting his hat back to get a better look.

This is incredible. Its in perfect condition. He eyed the sight of the barrel and then flipped open the safety. You know these are from the 1920s, right? He flipped the safety back on and tested its weight in his other hand. Its real light for a revolver of that time period. What if I was the Suicide King? I asked suddenly, grabbing the revolver from Jaspers careful fingers. What? You know, what if every time you died, you just got reshuffled back into the deck. What if every time you died, you woke up someone else? I felt my mind turning away from me. I couldnt stop staring at the revolver, at the gleaming brushed nickel surface shine, the grease that was lubricating the chamber. Jasper snorted. Thats stupid, he replied easily, leaning back on the couch, youd still be the King of Hearts. I considered what he said for a moment. Yeah. Yeah, youre right. I laid down on the floor, the revolver lying on my stomach. Hey Jazz? Yeah? When did you realize you liked Alice? I heard him shuffle on my couch. I stared up at the ceiling. The room used to be Emmetts. There were little glow-in-the-dark stars taped to the white ceiling. The first day of English class, sophomore year. Why then? Well, Im not really sure. Id seen her before then. Lots of times. But I dont know. I felt like I really saw her that first day of English class. Like she finally meant something to me. I thought about this for a long while. It was odd. I was taught to believe that love was an at-first-sight kind of thing. Like, if you didnt fall immediately in love with a person, then it wasnt real love. It must just be an infatuation. Or a crush. But not real. But in fact, I wasnt even sure that real love existed. I used to think that love like in the fairytales had to have been based off of something. But nowadays, I thought different. I had grown out of that awkward, lovelorn adolescence. I was a 17 year old boy and Id never been in love, let alone rescued a princess, kissed her awake, and lived happily ever after. It must just be a farce. What would you do if you couldnt be with Alice? Ever? Yeah. He meditated on this for a long while, long enough that I was beginning to sigh and grow stiff on the floor. When I finally sat up, he answered. Id kill myself. Jesus. For a girl? He smirked at me. Just wait till you fall in love. Youll see.

But you arent in love with her. You just have a crush on her. Aint that the same thing? Oh god. He pulled out the heavy twang on that one. I rolled my eyes. No. A crush is not love. Its the start of it. I ignored him. Youd kill yourself? I still had a hard time believing that. Thered be no point in living. But what about me? And your mom and dad and sister? He considered this for a moment. The thing is, Im not married to my sister. Or my mom or dad. Id be sad if they died, but I wouldnt be broken by it. If I lost Alice, even before I ever had her, Id be ruined. I turned the gun over in my lap. How would you do it? Do what? Kill yourself. Im not sure. Itd be pretty poetic to drown yourself, dont you think? Like Virginia Woolf style? Exactly. Or I could pull a Johnny Ace and leave fate up to Russian Roulette. Who the hell is Johnny Ace? Jasper rolled over and pinned me with an incredulous glare. You dont know who Johnny Ace is? Hello what planet have you been on? I ignored him. He huffed. Havent you ever heard of Pledging My Love? No. He rolled back over. Well, anyway, he was in his dressing room, playing with his .22 cal revolver Why the hell do you know that? playing Russian Roulette and he shot himself. So he killed himself for no good reason. He was just playing with a revolver, I asked flatly. Yep, seems that way. So it would be much like me, picking up this gun I held it up, holding it to my forehead, I pressed the end of the pistol to my temple, spinning the barrel, I spun it, and then firing. For fun? Jasper seemed a little shocked by the image of me holding a gun to forehead. I rolled my eyes. Maybe you maybe you should put that down. His usually smooth voice cracked. I cocked an eyebrow at him, still holding the gun to my temple, encouraged by his very un-Jasper-like reaction.

I already told you Its not loaded. Just to show him, I released the safety, pulled back the trigger, and waited for the empty click of the hammer releasing back onto an empty chamber. It didnt come. ~*~*~*~ There was a deafening noise in my right ear, a split moment of pain so sharp that I almost didnt feel it. And then nothing. I opened my eyes. I was not in Forks. Nor was I back in Chicago. I did not know where I was. I was in a strange room. But the layout of it seemed oddly familiar. There were glow-in-the-dark stars pasted on the ceiling, the walls were painted an aqua blue. A dinged-up surfboard leaned in the corner. I walked over to it. Joel Tudor. I didnt know what that meant, or why there was a Buddhist-inspired design surrounding the name. Was I in this Joel Tudors room? There were bookcases and CDs along the wall. I scanned them briefly surfer magazines were stacked as a make-shift bookend, there were bars of something called Sex Wax melting all over the front cover of a magazine. I ran a finger along the row of CDs: The Chantays, The Ventures, The Sufaris. The hell? Where was I? There was a skateboard wheels-up on the small desk in the center of the room. Screws were rolling around the table in a circle, as if whoever had taken them out had just left. I glanced over at the art on the underbelly of the skateboard. In the middle, surrounded by an illegible stream of graffiti-inspired text, was the King of Hearts, painted in black and red and white. Next to the extra wheels and screwdrivers on the desk, was a pack of Bee playing cards. I felt my stomach drop to my feet. Edward? I swiveled, facing the door, wondering if Id just heard things. But then the voice called my name again and there could be no mistaking it: it was the voice of my adoptive mother, Esme. There was a knock at the door. I hesitantly opened it. Edward, Jasper called for you about an hour ago, whatve you been doing? I blinked at her, willing my eyes to work properly. It was Esme, there was no doubt about that. But she was different. She was incredibly tan, she had freckles all across her chest and down onto her breasts which were revealed by the low-cut bikini she wore. Her hair had waved into a tangled, carefree mess. It looked like shed spent the day at the beach. I realized belatedly that she was waiting for a response. Oh. Uh, okay. Thanks I drew off, not knowing how to address her. Mom? It sounded vaguely like a question. Just wanted to remind you. You get so lost in that skateboard of yours. She turned away. Wait! What is it? She asked, not turning around, already heading down the stairs.

Uhm Where is he? I wasnt sure how to ask exactly where he lived, and I needed to find Jasper. He could help me sort this out. He could help me figure out what exactly was going on. Ed, hes next door. She sounded mildly irritated. In all my twelve years of living with the Cullens, Id never once heard Esme irritated, at anything, especially not her kids. Oh. Thanks. I slipped out of the room, following her down the stairs. The entire house was white, accented with honey-colored wood and bamboo accessories. This was not the house Id moved to. This was not the house in Forks with the Beaux Arts inspired exterior. Gone was the traditional interior design. I didnt see the evidence of Carlisles British fetishism anywhere. There were no Queen Anne footed highboys, or ceramic Staffordshire dogs perched on mahogany table-tops. I walked slowly toward the front door, moving as slowly as possible, trying to take in as much as I could. Next to the door, I saw a picture of Alice and Emmett and someone else on a glass table. Alice was blonde, but her roots were dark. She had a dark tan and perfect white teeth. She was holding pompoms. It was Alice for sure, but it wasnt Alice. Something seemed off. Emmett had sandy brown hair, but it was long it fell just beneath his shoulder. He wore a lettered jacket. And the boy next to them, was me. My hair was similar in length, though it seemed messier, more tangled. Almost the way Esmes had been. I had freckles all across the bridge of my nose, in my left ear, was a round, silver stud. I glared at it. Then, in a moment of clarity, I reached up, and touched my left earlobe. Sure enough, my fingers met metal. I jerked back, my stomach sinking. Where the fuck was I? Was this an alternate dimension? Did those things even exist? Okay, first things first, stay calm. I inhaled deeply and tried to calm my racing heart. What had happened? What was the last thing I remembered? My head felt fuzzy. I had been in my room, with Jasper. Wed been talking about Alice. Wed played our favorite card game at lunch. Id gotten an A on my US History test. Wed been in my room the memory of it felt fuzzy. I couldnt seem to recall anything from that conversation with any clarity. Id taken out Carlisles Webley. Jasper told me about some guy Ace? I pushed open the front door and kept thinking. Jasper would know what to make of this. Hed remember. Maybe I was dreaming. Or maybe Id eaten something bad at lunch and I was hallucinating. I didnt know where I was walking, but when I looked up, I saw Jasper. He was standing outside of a garage. The house was big and painted a mellow-yellow color. But the garage, in comparison, looked dark and unkempt. I glanced over to the house next door. Apparently Jasper and I were still neighbors. I was about to run towards him, if only to hug someone familiar and hope that I wasnt going crazy. But I stopped short. No. This cant be. This couldnt be. This wasnt Jasper.

His skin was sallow, like the color of sour milk. He had great droopy eyelids and dark shadows beneath his eyes. He was wearing clothes that were too large for his shrunken frame. They looked moth-eaten, or old. Jasper looked tired. In fact, he didnt even look like Jasper. Where was my friend with the cowboy hat and the dirty jeans and the smooth, rolling Southern twang? I didnt know this stranger in a hand-me-down robe who looked too tired to stand. He smiled lopsidedly at me. Yo man, where you been? His voice was slurred. His eyes opened a little more widely. Ive been waiting for hours, man, you gotta come try this. He shuffled over into the garage. Are you all right? He turned towards me and gave me a lopsided smile. Yeah dude, why wouldnt I be all right? He reached into the pocket of his tattered bathrobe and brought out a small bag. Especially considering what Ive got right here! He was so genuinely excited that I wanted to be happy right there with him, to share in the joyfulness of a friend simply for the sake of something familiar. But I had a very bad feeling about whatever was in that bag. I walked towards him and sat on the proffered plastic beach chair. Dude, we have to talk. Jasper suddenly sobered up. I leaned toward him, hoping maybe hed know something about why I was here and how d gotten here. About what? I tried to act nonchalant. About your sister, he rolled his eyes, come on man Ive been asking you about her for weeks. This new Jasper still had a crush on Alice. That, at least, was a welcome parallel it seemed that some things just dont change. I sighed. Jazz Woah, Jazz? He considered the name for a moment, then nodded. That sounds pretty groovy. He smiled and nodded toward me to continue. About Alice shes I dont know. It was true, I really didnt know how different this Alice would be from the last one. She still seemed the same judging from the 100 watt smile and the pom-poms from the photograph. I wasnt going to ask what a grunge-inspired stoner like this Jasper saw in the perfect, top-of-the-pyramid cheerleader Alice. Maybe opposites attract. You know Im not close to her. I finished. He was staring out at the street, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. I was about to say something, to wake him up out of this strange stupor, but then he suddenly remembered the little bag. Oh! Yo man look he dragged the bag into his lap. I almost forgot to show you. He held the bag up to my face and grinned. His teeth were yellowed. Inside the bag, there was a powdery brown dust. I looked past the bag and into his eyes, questioning. He gave me a muzzy smile. Would you like to chase the dragon, my friend?

I almost did a double take. Jazz is that is that heroin? I looked again at the fine tan powder. Jasper laughed. Where have you been, man? He shook the bag. This is the stuff Ive been telling you about! I stared at him, slack-jawed. You smoke heroin? Jasper didnt laugh this time, he just looked at me as though I was fuzzy around the edges. Not smoke, Ed. Inject. What? Two years now. Why would you do that? Why didnt someone stop you? Jasper barked out a laugh. Like you, perhaps? Yes! At this he was quiet for a long stretch of time. Roll up your sleeve, bro. I felt a little bit sick all of a sudden. I felt desperate and more than a little depraved. My fingers trembling, my stomach twisting into knots, I grabbed my sleeves and rolled back the hem. Sure enough, in a vaguely ladder-like pattern climbing up my left arm, were bruises. Bruises at the site of a heroin injection. Bruises from an addict. I stood so quickly I knocked the plastic beach chair over. Whats wrong with you, man? I stared at him, horrorstruck. Whats wrong with me? Were were heroin addicts, Jasper! As if a light had been switched, Jaspers easy-going demeanor turned off. So suddenly youre too good for this lifestyle? What is this? From asshole to angel? He stood up, reeking of beer and pot and far too many other illegal substances. I wanted out. I didnt want this. It may have seemed good with the warm salty air all around and the tanned bodies and the surfboards but this was anything but good. Even me, even the less-than-stellar, bored adopted son knew better than this. I didnt know where I was or how this had happened. I didnt know where my life in Forks went, or why the memory of it seemed to grow farther and farther away with each breath in this strange place. But I wanted out. I took off down the street, running as fast as my legs and new shoes would take me. The leather flipflops made loud slapping sounds against the pavement. I ran until my throat burned with the salty air, until the skin on my neck seemed to blister in the hot sun. I ran until the streets became a parking lot, and the parking lot became sand, and finally led out to the ocean. A sign read Zuma Beach County Park. Still panting hard, I looked out into the ocean.

Given any other circumstance, I would have found it beautiful, but as it was all I could see was ugliness. This place ruined my best friend. This place destroyed the only good thing in my life. I didnt want to be a heroin addict. I didnt want Jasper to be a burn-out. This wasnt us. This wasnt me. What had happened to me? I walked down onto the beach, towards the ocean. Had I died? Was this hell? I walked until my flip-flops were sucked into the wet sand and I had to step out of them. If I survived death once, and woke up somewhere new, could I do it again? I stared out into the water. The waves were calm. Jasper had said hed die if he could never be with Alice. And now I knew what he meant I couldnt be without Jasper. I walked into the ocean and contemplated what I was about to do. I never wanted to drown. I always thought that would be the worst way to die your lungs aching, your heart bursting. But I had nothing else at my disposal. I could have overdosed, but I couldnt bear to see Jasper cooking up like hed done it for years. I could endure this. Besides, I hadnt even felt it when Id pulled the trigger. It felt cold, and wet, and sharp for the briefest moment, and then that was it. Id just woken up as if from a deep sleep. Would this be the same? I walked further out in the ocean, it was up to my chest. I didnt even know how to drown. I supposed you just emptied your lungs and then inhaled water, but I had no idea if I could even force myself to do that. I closed my eyes, took one last exhale, and slipped beneath the waves. nota bene: Suicide King This game is intended to be played with an Anglo-American pack, in which the King of Hearts is shown holding a sword horizontally behind his head, giving the impression that he is stabbing himself. There can be from 2 to 5 players. Start by shuffling the cards. Then deal them into a row of five piles: the center pile should have 12 cards and the other four 10 cards each. Players take turns to draw the top card from any pile they choose and show it. Whoever draws the King of Hearts (the "suicide king") is out of the game. The cards are then reshuffled and the other players play again until only one player remains. If you draw an Ace, Queen, Jack or a King other than the King of Hearts, you must draw extra cards as follows: four extra cards for an Ace; three extra cards for a King; two extra cards for a Queen; one extra card for a Jack. If the extra cards are all numeral card 2-10 you can stop drawing and it is the next player's turn, but if you draw another Ace, King, Queen or Jack, you must then draw the number of extra cards appropriate to this new card before ending your turn.

Chapter 3. Three Of Hearts It felt hot. My lungs felt like they were on fire, the pressure behind my eyes was staggering, my throat felt like it had been ripped open. I choked and instinctively tried to fight my bodys natural reaction to inhale and then nothing. It was cold. My eyes slammed open, my shoulders and back arched and my muscles constricted in a huge inward heave. Searing cold air flooded my mouth, my throat, my lungs burning all the way down. I felt like a fish thrown on a dock, drowning in open air. I choked. I spit and cough and turned my head to the side as my eyesight melted into tears and ropes of snot jiggled free from my nose. The air was too dry, too cold it whistled in my lungs and clogged up my chest with stabbing coughing spasms. I tried to sit up, but the sudden intake of air in such massive quantities and the sudden changes in pressure knocked me flat with dizziness. Black spots clouded my vision were then swiftly overtaken by colors like florescent green, bruised purple, neon yellow. My head spun. I brought a fist to my mouth and tried to breathe even breaths through the holes in my fingers. First things first, calm down. I opened my eyes, ripped away the sticky, crusty tears that were beginning to glue my eyelashes together. The first thing I saw was the ceiling. There were glow-in-the-dark stars pasted all over. The stars seemed oddly familiar, but I couldnt begin to place why I knew or understood them. I was lying on some sort of couch, in a very brown room. It looked like the interior of a cabin. I sat up slowly. There were bookcases everywhere, the entire wall was covered with them. Along the opposite wall, there was a desk, with a strange hunk of wood sitting atop it. There were green-handled carving knives in a variety of shapes strewn across the desk, they rolled as if theyd just been used. The room looked nearly the same as the last one Id been in the one with the the blue walls. And the I couldnt remember. Were the walls blue? Or had they been green? I closed my eyes and tried think. Id been in California. I think. Thered been a skateboard in my room Jasper had been a heroin addict. I had a spectacular headache. Edward! Come on youre going to be late! Sure enough, it was Esmes voice. I slid slowly off the couch, until my socked feet hit the floor. There was a distinct smell of fir trees, and woodsmoke, and bacon? My stomach growled. Where was I? There was a dim light streaming through a small, heavy-paned window. It was dark, overcast, but the light seemed too bright. And there was snow everywhere. It blanketed the trees until their branches bowed under the weight. I saw a figure walking toward the house, the snow was up to his knees. Edward! I was already dressed in jeans and heavy boots and layers of sweaters. But I was still freezing.

Coming! I tried to yell but my voice was hoarse, raw. It felt like I was sick, or like Id just swallowed too much seawater. It took me a moment to realize that that was exactly what it was like I had swallowed too much seawater. I grabbed the bag that was hanging from a coat hanger and headed downstairs. The house was different. Different than what I could remember of the last house. It was closed the hallways were narrow and dimly lit but the lighting didnt seem to bother me. There were few windows, and thickly woven carpets covering the wooden floors. The entire house smelled like pine trees. There was a narrow staircase that led into the kitchen. My bedroom mustve been in a galley, or a loft. Finally, Jaspers waiting for you. Esme herded me into the kitchen. The kitchen was as long and narrow as the rest of the house. Esme steered me toward a counter. Sitting behind it, was Jasper. I liked this Jasper already. He looked healthy. He looked more like Jasper. He was also wearing a lettered jacket. Now sit, and eat. Your breakfast is probably cold already. There was a heaping stack of scrambled eggs and bacon piled on top of a plate. I guess Esme didnt care much about heart-attacks. Youre running late this morning, Ed. It looked like Jasper, but there was no smooth Southern swing to his voice. Had he just called me Ed? Sorry, I mumbled. I had no idea what this new Jasper would be like. Id rushed into believing he could have helped me last time. This time I knew better Jasper wasnt in on this. Come on, lets go. Were going to be late. He picked up his school bag. Are you driving today? Uh, I was about to agree, out of sheer familiarity, then I realized I had no idea where we were going. Why dont you drive? I hoped this new Jasper had a car. Ill drive! A high, fine feminine voice came from an upstairs landing. I just put new snow-chains on my tires. Alice walked into the kitchen and grabbed a set of keys by the door. Ready to go? Jasper was already following her out to her car. I glanced over my shoulder at Esme, looking for differences, looking for similarities. She was far closer to the Esme I knew from from Forks, then from the one Id met in California. I climbed in Alices jeep, sitting in the backseat. On the way to school, listening to Jasper talk to Alice, I wondered why I had faltered over the name Forks. You ready to play? I sat down at the long, wooden lunch tables with the biggest migraine Id ever had. I knew no one. I had no idea where I was going. I was in some school called Lathrop High our mascot was a really fucking annoying Malamute. I sat down and scowled. Id spent the better part of the day cutting class in the bathroom, wondering about where I was and garnering information from the urinal gossip about various goings-on. I managed to make it to two classes so far, and only because Jasper had those classes with me.

I glanced down at the table. Bee playing cards. In five neat piles. My throat tightened immediately. I couldnt speak. Okay, I nodded. You first. I let my hand hover over the center pile, then picked up a card. Three of Hearts More and more people headed over towards our table. I watched them, carrying their trays with an easy swagger. Their posture was upright, rolling. They threw their heads back when they laughed. They were jocks. Hey Em, howd that JV shit go yesterday? Emmett shot a strange, strained look at me and then looked back at Jasper. He shook his head infinitesimally. Jasper glanced at me, then averted his eyes. Do you mind if we talk sports, Ed? He whispered. I stared back at him with wide eyes. Why would I care? They both looked at me as if Id say something pleasing. Then smiled, in unison, and turned back to the conversation. So Jasper seemed a little hesitant, he still shot me concerned glances, How was it? Same shit, new day. Emmett tossed his tray down carelessly onto the table. I swear, every year they get scrawnier. Jasper tipped his head back in the same fashion, and laughed. Which is exactly why I told Coach to get a life. Theres no way Im teaching itty bitty freshmen how to toss around pigskin. Right? Like, didnt their daddies teach them anything? I glanced between them uneasily. Emmett and Jasper were friends? Jasper was a jock? A few other boys with rippling pectorals joined up. Jasper played cards with me while continuing their banter. So uh, Emmett was leaning across the table towards Jasper, whispering. Any luck with Alice? Jasper let out a deep sigh between his lips and turned a card. It was the Jack of Spades. Not even close. I mean, Ill think well be getting close, and then Ill see her off with her skank friends, hanging all over guys. He picked up another card: Five of Diamonds Emmett sucked his teeth in sympathy and dug into his perfectly domed mashed-potatoes with renewed integrity. It sucks. Girls are so damn confusing. Rose wont even look at me. He scowled across the cafeteria at a group of girls. Alice was among them. Cheerleaders.

Jasper sneered the word and few other guys at the table nodding in gruff agreement. I kept quiet and picked up another card, thankful for something to do. It was the King of Hearts. I slumped and let my forehead bump against the table. Tough luck, man. Emmett clapped me on the shoulder. I looked up, still holding up my card, just in time to see a small girl in a red hoodie, hood drawn up, pass the table. I glanced at the card, then back at the girl. The red in the heart, and the red of her sweater were exactly the same color. I dont know why I found this so remarkable, but the familiarly of it of something seemed so right that I wanted to hang onto it. Desperately. Who is that? I nodded towards the girl whod walked by. Eh I dont know. Isabelle? Something like that. Oh. The name wasnt familiar. But something about the red hoodie was. This is your pack, by the way. Jasper slid the cards into their box and tossed it towards me. I slipped them in my back pocket. Red heart, red hoodie. The bell rang, and, dutifully following Jasper, I walked to my next class. I was lying on my couch, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars. I was trying to remember. I remembered even less than Id remembered this morning. At least then, the stars on the ceiling had seemed vaguely familiar. Now I didnt recognize them at all. I was grasping for my memory, anything, anything to remind myself of what had happened, where I came from. Id come from Forks. Forks. Id memorized the name over and over again in the bathroom during all of those cut-classes. Id taken a black sharpie marker and written the name across my wrist in sloppy capital letters. Losing the name of that place scared me more than anything: if I didnt remember the name of my home, how could I ever return to it? My family at least, in life reincarnation of them, was decent. I could live with this family. There was no heroin-addicted, burn-out Jasper. No fake-blonde Alice, no tanned, plastic Esme. Id yet to meet Carlisle, but part of me didnt want to. I wanted to keep the memory of him, what I had left of it anyway, in tact. There was a scraping sound coming from the kitchen. I learned very quickly that any noise made in the kitchen reverberated into my room and became magnified by the tiny space. It was past midnight. I rolled over and looked at the digital clock on the desk. 12:37 a.m. Feeling curious, I rolled out of bed and crept down the stairwell. A figure hunched over the counter, his back to me. He was wearing baby blue clothes they looked like scrubs. They looked like scrubs, I realized quickly, my eyes adjusting to the low light, because they were scrubs.

It was Carlisle. He bent over the counter and then straightened, a bottle tipping back with his head. I squinted. Carlisle? The figure spun. I was pinned with an angry glare. What did I tell you about calling me that? He stomped forward, his eyes were bloodshot. Im sorry I took a step back, bumping into the wall. He came closer, the bottle hanging limply from his left hand. He smelled like alcohol, and smoke, and like that antiseptic smell from hospitals. I work all day, trying to put food on the table so that you can live here, in this fucking town because of your condition and you cant even call me father? Condition? What condition? I started to back up the stairs but he grabbed my by the arm. His grip was tight, I could feel myself start to bruise. Go to bed. His breath smelled rancid. I wanted to leave. I wanted to be far, far away from this man that looked like Carlisle but wasnt. Carlisle was kind, and controlled. He never drank or smelled like beer and cat-piss or worked such late hours. I tripped over myself getting to my bedroom. I slammed the door shut harder than was necessary. I shook. Adrenaline raced through my veins. What was this? I had a condition? I went to the dresser and began pulling out drawers. Nothing. Then the desk I rifled through this strange bedroom until I found it: a file containing medical records. I flipped through page after page of bills, of hospital visits, of receipts. I felt the sweat bead on my forehead. My fingers kept flipping until I realized I was seeing the same group of words over and over again: Connective Tissue Dysplasia: Spellacy Type I scanned the symptom list: skin telangiectases, joint abnormalities, hypermobile joints, restricted joint mobility, sun sensitively, atrophy of the iris, kyphoscoliosis. Sun sensitivity. Restricted joint mobility. The wheels in my head turned, then clicked into place. What Jasper and Emmett didnt want to bring up in front of me: Sports. Why we lived in this dimly lighted house in a dimly lighted part of the world. I glanced down at the papers I was holding. I had this. This... this disease. Would it shorten my life? Undoubtedly it would shorten Carlisles. I read further The disease eventually could cause complete immobility and a severe decrease in quality of life. Then further, potential blindness. Blind? I could go blind? I could go blind in this life. In this world where Jasper was a jock but still lusted after Alice, where I wanted to play sports but couldnt, where Carlisle worked himself to death to keep me healthy. I didnt want to look at the cost of the bills. I could get out. I could spare them all of me, of this. I could start over. I looked down, at the desk, at the emerald knives that still laid, untouched, upon it. Picking one up, I slid my thumb along the blade. There was nothing then a fine, red line appeared as if by magic.

I felt my stomach tighten. This would be worse than drowning far, far worse than pulling that trigger. I stared down at the hunk of wood on the desk. From this angle, I recognized it for what it was: A wooden relief of the King of Hearts. I kind of smiled then, because I knew I would wake up somewhere else. I dug the playing cards out of my back pocket and dealt them into five easy piles. And basking in the absolute thrill of normalcy I played by myself, knowing I was destined to lose. When I did lose, only thirteen cards in, I took that emerald carving knife, and dug a slash across my wrist right through the word FORKS. So this is where the fugue comes in. Here are the footnotes: Nota bene: Dissociative Fugue is one or more episodes of amnesia in which the inability to recall some or all of one's past and either the loss of one's identity or the formation of a new identity occur with sudden, unexpected, purposeful travel away from home. Specific symptoms include: The predominant disturbance is sudden, unexpected travel away from home or one's customary place of work, with inability to recall one's past. Confusion about personal identity or assumption of a new identity (partial or complete). The disturbance does not occur exclusively during the course of Dissociative Identity Disorder and is not due to the direct physiological effects of a substance (e.g., a drug of abuse, a medication) or a general medical condition (e.g., temporal lobe epilepsy). The symptoms cause clinically significant distress or impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning. The length of a fugue may range from hours to weeks or months, occasionally longer. During the fugue, the person may appear normal and attract no attention. The person may assume a new name, identity, and domicile and may engage in complex social interactions. However, at some point, confusion about his identity or the return of the original identity may make the person aware of amnesia or cause distress.

Chapter 4. Four Of Spades My heart trembled. My veins emptied out. I felt the incredible cold of the outside air on my wrist, felt it flood into my opened veins. It was so cold it burned. It burned so badly my heart sputtered, gave out, stopped. I shut my eyes and fell into nothing. I opened my eyes. It felt like my heart was doing strange flip-flops in my chest. It seemed to flutter. My blood seemed to wheeze through its valves. And then there was one pump then two and my heart was working double-time with the influx of new blood.

The worlds worst Carpal-Tunnel syndrome could not compare. My wrist ached. It felt like sharp, hollow tubes had been inserted into my arm. I flipped my hand over. A word had been written in capital letters across my wrist. A line smudged through the word, as if something had sliced through it when the ink was still wet. The word was Forks. I contemplated this word. It seemed familiar, in an odd way. I stared up at the ceiling. I spotted Canis Major in the stars on the ceiling. I wondered if that had been placed there on purpose. Canis Major was Latin for greater dog. I laid there, wondering about constellations. I realized that I knew the names of a great number of them, and even a few names of the individual stars within them. I wondered if glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars came in varying degrees of glowing intensity the better to place Sirius, the brightest star in the sky. The word Forks was curiously stuck in my head. I turned the word over. It was a pretty word, and seemed to hold weight for such few letters, for just one syllable. I felt like I remembered it. Which was a weird feeling to have for a word. Blood began to drain from my face. My skin seemed to prick and tickle. My neck felt hot, clammy. I sat up slowly. I did not recognize this room. In fact, I did not recognize myself. My name is My name How often do you really think of your own name? Never. Especially not upon awakening. My name is I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through my nose. I stared down at my wrist. Forks. Forks. This makes sense. Forks sounds right. I recognize that name. But my name wasnt Forks. My name was Edward? There was a soft knock at the door. My name was Edward. My name is Edward. I cleared my throat. Yes? Its supper time. Come on down. It was a light feminine voice. It, too, seemed familiar. My name is Edward. I looked around the room. There were bookshelves from floor to ceiling. The walls had been painted white. The white seemed sterile. It seemed cold. But it wasnt cold. Not even close. In fact, it was quite muggy. The air was warm and the window was open and huge trees covered in moss bent and swayed. They looked like crooked old men. There was a white desk in the middle of the white room. A pen lolled across the surface. A pen. Edward. Forks.

I hesitantly picked it up, not entirely certain I remembered this room, or this pen, of this book that was propped open. I wasnt certain I remembered the voice at my door, or the strange trees outside. But Forks was familiar. Edward was too. I picked up the pen, and began to write. Edward? Are you coming down? It was another feminine voice. But this one seemed dead. It didnt seem right. There was no spark of recognition. My throat felt tight. My skin began to sweat. I sat down at the desk and steadied my arm. I darkened the word Forks. Edward! I dropped the pen and stared at the door, wondering if I should go down and meet people I wouldnt recognize when I could barely recognize myself. I shut the opened book on the desk. The King of Hearts stared up at me. My heart was shocked into beating. This made sense. Oh god. This made a lot of sense. I felt a shot of adrenaline coat my veins, felt my pulse pounding in my ears. Next to the book was a pack of Bee playing cards. I stood up. The chair fell over. I was swamped with understanding, my brain marinating in sudden information that was not new but felt new all the same. I grabbed the pen and started writing, furiously, starting on my left forearm. From elbow to wrist I wrote in large letters: First things first, stay calm. This was not Alice. I knew Alice. I saw those playing cards and my first life became shockingly clear. I was Edward Cullen. My biological parents had died in a car accident. My adoptive family lived in Forks, Washington. My adopted siblings were Emmett, and Alice. My adoptive parents were Esme and Carlisle. But this was not Alice. Her hair was gone. It had been shaved, roughly. Bags of purple color drooped beneath her wide, dark eyes. I stared at her from across the table. Esme was shooting me warning looks. She didnt eat. She was pushing her food around on her plate. I couldnt stop staring at her. Where was my adoptive sister? The one with the dark spiky hair and the impish smile, the one who held all the spirit in our house? This wasnt her. She wasnt right. So Alice, Carlisle cleared his throat and looked up at her. Tell us about your doctors. How are they? Do they treat you well? Her eyes seemed to glow. It looked like there was a milky film over them, so much that they seemed like full moons, or light-bulbs.

She considered Carlisle for a moment, her eyes glossing over, the milky film becoming heavier thick enough that you couldnt see the color in her irises then she turned back to her food. I saw Carlisles shoulders hunch, saw him stare down at his food. His face looked tired. May I be excused? Esme looked weary too. But dinner just started. And we rarely have Alice home. We should enjoy this time together. Alice looked up at me. Her lamp-like eyes widened considerably, her lips lifted almost indiscernibly almost like she was smiling. Snow White was my favorite fairy-tale. My stomach knotted. Time seemed to slow and then stop. Snow White. Alice rolling an apple in her hands, the busy cafeteria, Jasper, the Ace of Spades. The memory hit me like a kick in the gut. My neck prickled and sweated. Jasper thinks you look like her. I smiled back at her, my eyes going wide, hollowing out. Her face registered the information, and her eyes flickered for the barest moment, then she turned back to her food a strange, foreign smile on her lips. Carlisle and Esme watched the entire exchange, transfixed. They both stared at me expectantly. You can go if youd like, Esme said quietly, still watching me, unblinking. I nodded and stood, and backed away, still facing the table, until I came to the back door. I swung it open and I stepped through. It was damp out here, but an odd chill seemed to have settled in the air. It felt like an Indian Summer finally giving away to autumn. It was mostly woods. There was a thick moss on the ground and the boughs of the trees were heavy with it. They swung back and forth like lynched men. There was a path through the trees, I followed it. It led to a misty river. Sitting on a short, high dock, was a girl in a red jacket. The hood had been drawn up. I sat next to her. She was holding a fishing pole between her palms. So youre finally talking to me. Her voice was calm and low and deep for a girl. Have you been expecting me? Does that writing help? She nodded at my arm. I couldnt see her face. I looked down at it. It seemed rather silly in retrospect. I I dont know yet. Still holding the pole in one hand, she reached into her jacket and pulled out a pen. You should write more. I stared at the pen shed given me. Wolf Industries, INC.

Whats Wolf Industries? A medical supply company. I rightfully stole that pen. Id like it back. I rolled it in my fingers. You stole a pen from a medical supply company? She hummed and readjusted her grip on the pole. They supply the asylum that Alice goes to. Alice goes to an asylum? The girl didnt say anything. I stared out at the water. From far away, I assumed it was a river. But now that I was up close, I could see that it extended for miles. Who are you? Im Bella Swan. And you are Edward Cullen, and you are an awfully far way from home. How do you know this? Ive been waiting for you to talk to me. I had nothing to say. I was shocked into silence. After a long period of silence, I spoke again. How do I go home? How do you know that was home? That could have been just some place that youd woken up at, and stayed so long that your memory washed out and was replaced. You could really be from New Jersey. But Im not. I know this. I paused and then added, Are you going to help me? She turned her head toward me, but I still couldnt see her face. Take that pen, and write down everything you ever want to remember. Is that going to get me home? No. But at least you wont forget what home was like. I was quickly growing irritated. She was speaking in riddles. Why? Why dont I just forget. I could just kill myself again and wake up somewhere new and make that place my new home. But every place youve been has been so imperfect. Do you really want to give up and settle? Yeah, well, home wasnt quite so perfect either. From beneath her dark hood, I saw her white teeth revealed in a smile. Youre learning. Learning what? I cant tell you that. I dug my hand into my hair and pulled. I can tell you this though, if you dont know where youre going, any road will get you there. I glared over at her. Her fishing line wiggled. Oh! I think Ive got one!

She began reeling, her small shoulders hunched over with the force of whatever was on the other end. I probably should have helped, but I got a sick enjoyment watching her struggle. If she liked to watch me writhe, then I shouldnt feel bad about watching her do the same. A large catfish was pulled out of the water. She caught it deftly in her hand. It stopped struggling. It was horrendously ugly: all grey and slimy with that pasty white belly and big, unblinking eyes. It had a mustache. Isnt he a beauty? She picked the fish up and kissed him on the nose. The fish flopped its tail. Are you going to eat him? Her hooded head turned towards me. I still couldnt see her face. Thats demonic. Why would I eat him? She untied the hotdog that had dangled from the line. There was no hook. How did you reel that thing up here? She put the fish back in the water. It seemed to look up at her expectantly, its mouth opening and closing. The girl sighed and broke the hotdog in two. Fine, go ahead. Eat the whole thing. You pig. She tossed it into the water. She turned back toward me. He bit onto the hotdog. Catfish love hotdogs. Theyll fight for them. Theyll eat them out of your hand. I ignored her. She was really beginning to bother me. That quote was from Alice in Wonderland you know. Lewis Carroll. Her feet kicked back and forth, swinging freely from the dock. They were bare. I havent read it. You should. You could learn something. I stood up angrily, frustrated from her game-playing. Are you going to help me or not? The girl said nothing. Her hooded back didnt move. I threw her pen down on the dock and began to walk away. When I was nearly at the house, I heard her voice, singing: The time has come, the Walrus said, to talk of many things of shoes and ships and sealing wax of cabbages and kings. I gritted my teeth and threw open the door. Dinner had been cleaned up, no one was in the kitchen. The screen door banged loudly as it shut. I stomped up to my room. The house seemed to sway and groan with the trees. When I was back inside, I took out a pen, and wrote. Your name is Edward Cullen. You are from Forks, Washington. If youre reading this, the person who wrote this has died. I killed myself. Begrudgingly, I added: Find the girl in the red hood. She will help you.

With that finished, I looked wildly around the room. There were books, and journals and a large white couch. But nothing to off yourself with. I was about to walk down to the river, to drown myself again, when a knock came at my door. It was Alice. She was staring through me. In her hand was an orange prescription bottle. Sometimes, this helps me find my way home. You should go back to sleep. I took the proffered bottle and shut my door as she turned and walked away. The label read: ALICE B. CULLEN 1633 Bordeaux Cove Biloxi, MS TAKE 1 TABLET BY MOUTH ONCE A DAY AS NEEDED FOR ANXIETY. In the top left corner of the label, it said in bold letters: WOLF PHARMACY, INC. I opened the bottle, put my lips to the rim, and swallowed every last pill.

Chapter 5. Seven Of Diamonds My head felt thick. I wanted to sleep. I couldnt tell what was right-side-up or upside-down. My head spun. Or was the room spinning? I sank down onto the white couch, and fell asleep. My eyes opened. As soon as they pried themselves apart, glued eyelashes ripping open, my stomach knotted up and heaved. Tangy, acidy mucus tore up my throat and exploded into my mouth in an acerbic discharge. My head turned instinctively to the side and I was cough, cough, coughing up bile and oil and juices my stomach crawling up to my throat and squeezing itself dry. The vomit splattered on the floor and all over the Queen Anne legs of the furniture I was laying on. I had no idea who I was. Or, for that matter, where I was. But that was no great, astounding shock. It was nothing big enough to make my lungs seize in panic. My paroxysm made it impossible to care or wonder about anything other than deep, cold breaths of perfect air. I tilted my head back, the obligatory tears that accompany vomiting rolling down my cheeks and into my ears and sucked in delicious blue air. I imagined drinking down the oxygen of white sand Pacific beaches, of cold glacial forests in the frozen tundra of Alaska. I was just happy to be breathing. It delayed my panic. The room began to clear my eyes gave up their tears and my stomach unwound enough to drop back into its rightful place in my abdomen. I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand. Thats when I noticed what was written there. First things first, stay calm. It was written in huge sculptural letters across my left forearm, on the inside. I stared at it, not really comprehending the words, ironically, making my panic resurface.

They gave weight to whatever madness was at hand. This wasnt just some temporary amnesia, this wasnt just a bad headache or a hangover or the taking of one-too-many sleeping pills to fight the insomnia. This was bigger. This was different. I flopped my arm over, rotating on my radius. Your name is Edward Cullen. You are from Forks, Washington. If youre reading this, the person who wrote this has died. I killed myself. My name is Edward Cullen. I tried it out on my tongue. The words felt right, or, well, as right as any word can taste in your mouth. It was a rather odd name who was named Edward anymore? And then that next part: the person who wrote this has died. I killed myself. So someone took my arm, wrote my name on it and where I was from, and then killed themselves? I couldnt quite figure out the logic in that. This must be a joke a hangover last night there mustve been a party where everyone got rip-roaring drunk and some asshole wrote this on my arm to freak me out. Thats all it was. That explained this absurd headache, and the vomit that is now on my floor and in the rivets on my couch. I swallowed. You really need to stop doing that, you know. I jerked upright, my heart jumping into my throat and my esophagus squeezing it tight. A girl in a red hood sat in the corner of my room, on top of a desk. She was inspecting her nails. I glanced back down at my arm, to the scratchy, almost irreverent penmanship that said: Find the girl in the red hood. She will help you. I looked up at her. Who are you? You killed yourself again. When are you going to learn? I stared at her, immediately on edge because I couldnt see her face or her eyes there was just a dark shadow beneath the edge of her hood. Her feet were bare, they kicked idly, swinging free in the air. Each time you do that, youre going to forget even more. And thats what got you started in this mess to begin with. I I dont understand. Her hooded head just looked at me. I had a feeling she was rolling her eyes. Of course you dont. Thats why Im here. Who are you? I am the MWI-approved auxiliary. Her small shoulders pushed back proudly. Im here to help you navigate the universal wavefunctions. I stared at her. What? Okay, okay, so I wasnt exactly MWI-approved. I havent even passed my Schrdinger Completed Auxiliary Tests, actually. Nor does the MWI even know Im here She scratched her elbow.

But I couldnt keep watching you day in and day out, making the same mistakes. So regardless, her chest jutted out again, Im here to help. I felt around behind me for the edge of the couch. When I found it, I sat down. Well geez, dont welcome me or anything. Another moment of awkward silence passed between us. I had no idea what was going on and was beginning to feel like there was a tremendous joke that was being played on me. Was I on camera? She sighed. Well, I guess you dont remember me. You didnt even write my name down, did you? I looked down at my arm. Find the girl in the red hood. Nope. I didnt think so. She hopped off the desk and stood in front of me. Im Bella Swan. Im Edward. Yes well, you probably dont really believe that yet. But you will. Youll just need something to jog your memory. She looked around the room. You seem rather attached to these. In her hand was a pack of Bee Playing Cards. There was a flicker of recognition. They seemed familiar. Her head tilted down towards the cards. Well, perhaps in time. You really must be far gone. Im sorry, who are you? Her head dropped. Bella. Swan. And why are you in my room? Im here to help you. Help me with what? She considered me for a long moment. You have no idea who you are. It was true. I didnt. I stared at her. So then whats the MWI? The Many-World Interpretation Incorporation. They were going to go with Parallel Universes, but decided against it when they realized the acronym would be PU. She snorted. Im not following. Okay, heres the skinny. She sat down on the edge of the couch.

You killed yourself. In fact, youve killed yourself a total of four times already, and each time, a little bit more of your memory wastes away. Ive already died? Am I dead? No no, youre just not home. Hence the parallel universe thing. I could do nothing but stare. My brain was not functioning. That was the only way to justify what was happening. I must still be drunk. Or high. Did I do drugs? Where am I? Well, right now, youre in Camelback Village Estates in Glendale, Arizona. Arizona. I looked down at my arm. You are from Forks, Washington. Yeah, youre a long way from home. I looked back up at her. Then whose whose room is this? I looked around, at the brown walls and the white, spackled ceiling with drippy glow-in-the-dark stars hanging down. I was sitting on a white couch. There was, curiously, no bed. Your room. What? You just told me Im from Forks. Actually, you read your own handwriting that says youre from Forks. And yes, this is your room. This is your room in the Edward That Lives In Arizona universe. I stood up. This is bullshit. Fine, if you dont want my help, youre going to be wandering around for a very long time. My memory will come back. Youre just messing with my head. You You got me drunk or something and wrote this bullshit on my arm. Okay, first, that is not my handwriting, and second yes. You will get your memory back. But itll be your memory of Forks, and your mother and father and family from there. Not here. I looked at the Bee playing cards on the desk. Why do I remember these? I picked them up. Because back in Forks you used to play all the time with your best friend. I used to play what? Suicide King. I rounded on her. Is this a joke? No joke. Thats the game. Its kind of ironic really. I dont even know that game. This is a joke. Its not a joke. You and Jasper would play in the cafeteria during lunch time. Jasper?

Yes, Jasper. Your best friend. How do you know any of this? Why should I trust you? Because Im trying to get you out of here. Im trying to get you home. I know all of this because Ive been following you for a very long time. I began to pace, my feet moving me back and forth across the narrow room. Okay so say that this really isnt my home. How do I get back to it? Im here to help you navigate. I dont understand. Were in an alternate universe? Technically speaking, were always in an alternate universe. Whatever universe youre in is going to be alternate to someone else. But yes. So how can you just jump between universes? Thats what youve unintentionally been doing by committing suicide. Each time you die, you split. The universe splices and you end up in a new one. So every time someone kills themselves, they end up in some alternate universe? Exactly. Then why arent there millions of mostly dead suicide victims wandering around the universe? There are. But for the most part, they forget who they were and wake up in a new place and go on living there. Ever heard of Dissociative Identity Disorder? My mouth went dry. She picked at some invisible spot beneath her thumb nail. You get the idea. I considered her. She was small, with slight little shoulders and small hands. Her face was completely obscured. So then why didnt you just let me keep living in some new place? Because she sighed, Because you didnt mean to kill yourself. At least, not that first time. And because of that you remembered far too much of your original life. And we cant have people who know about the MWI go on living. But what about when I get home? Wont I still remember everything? I thought I caught the ghost of a smile in the shadows where her face was. Precisely. Which is why Im helping you. Otherwise her voice drew off. Otherwise what? She was really beginning to scare me. Otherwise youll be terminated. For good. What? By who? Terminated? Yes. Terminated. Dead. Gone. For good. I glared at her. The MWI doesnt exactly like people to know about them. Nor do they like victims of suicide to write notes on their arms to remind themselves of their former lives. Or fight a crusade to get back there. But I thought I thought you were working for them. The MWI. Not officially. Im more like an undergrad.

So why are you helping me escape from these people? Because because Her hooded head turned to the side. Because I want to, okay? I ignored her and stared around the room. Another thought occurred to me. And how do you travel between universes? If youve been following me for so long? Im not allowed to divulge that information. Then how am I supposed to trust you? I dont even know you! I can see that youre about to call this entire thing a joke and say its bullshit. But to be frank, the MWI would have my ass if they knew what I was telling you. Arent they going to be angry with you for helping me anyway? I rolled my eyes. This was some elaborate joke. Look, if you dont believe me. Go ahead. Kill yourself. And when you wake up in another room that looks suspiciously like the one from back in Forks, and Im sitting on your desk again, then go ahead and tell me its a joke. I eyed her carefully. Why are you wearing that hood? Her legs kicked again, bare feet sliding over the floor. Youre wasting time. Each second you spend sitting here, asking me ridiculous questions is another second that youre pronounced dead back in Forks. The immediacy of her words sunk in. I stared down at my arm again. First things first, stay calm. Across my wrist: Forks. Yeah, this would have to be some really elaborate joke.

Chapter 6. Jack Of Hearts Why should I trust you? The girl was looking out of the lone window. Her fingers traced along the glass. Because you have to. If you want to get back, she said simply. But I ran a hand through my hair, still not entirely trustworthy of this strange girl. But how do I know you arent making all of this up. You could be a crazy person. Her head tilted. She cocked a hand on her hip. Did you really just accuse me of being a crazy person? I opened my mouth but she waved me off. Look at the risk of sounding like a creepy stalker, Ill tell it to you plain. I know you. I know a lot about you.

I stared at her, deadpan. Whats my favorite color? Green. Favorite flavor? Mint. Lucky guesses. They could be lucky guesses. I looked around the room for a candy wrapper or evidence of green being my color. There was a green pen on my desk. She mustve deduced that green was my favorite color. yeah. Yeah, that one green pen gave it all away. Yeah. Yeah No. No it didnt. I glared at her. I really didnt like her. And I got the feeling that I didnt like her in any of my past lives either. Favorite Look. She spun around. I know that youre oddly jealous of Emmetts ability to twitch his pectoral muscles and you tried to lift weights for a total of about twenty minutes before giving up. I know that you organize your bookshelves according to release date, then size, then color. I know that you have a serious furniture fetish that is most likely the result of Carlisles hardly-passing-for-heterosexual love of serving ware. Trust me. Right now, I know you better than you know yourself. I looked at the floor. I do not have a furniture fetish, I mumbled. I could feel her stare on me. A moment later, she snorted. Sure you dont. A bare foot kicked idly at the desk leg. Dont you hate Sheraton legs? Theyre far too ornate. Thats not a Sheraton. Thats a Chippendale. And its not too ornate. Its from the I shut up. Her little shoulders were hunched up and shaking. She was laughing at me. I hate you, I said, turning my back to her. She just shrugged. You wont be saying that in a few minutes. Now come on. Lets get to work. This girl Bella was possibly the most irritating person on the planet. I couldnt even see her face, but I could feel her smirk. I crossed my arms and glared. It didnt help that it was extraordinarily hot outside. The cheap plastic thermometer on the side of the house read 93 degrees Fahrenheit. Maybe this girl was right maybe I really wasnt from this place. Because youd have to be fucking insane to live here. There were gross scrubby bushes that broke up the otherwise flat, sandy landscape. I had a funny feeling that Star Wars episode one could be filmed here no problem. Will you stop glaring? And Bella could be the chief Tusken Raider.

I crossed my arms and turned my glare from the bushes to the back of her head. Okay listen up, she barked. She squatted on the ground, her feet getting dusty. Youre about to get your first lesson in Wave Function Collapsing. Wave what? Wave Function Collapsing. This is how we can get you home. I squatted down next to her. The sun beat against my neck. She stuck her tiny finger in the sand and began to draw. Wave Function Collapse is when is a wave function, that is to say an alternate universe comes into contact with the external world. Basically, to get a Wave Function to collapse, you have to somehow die, witness it, and remember it. But You said Ive been doing that already. Dying and remembering. Well Somewhat. You havent witnessed yourself dying yet, but you have been remembering. In fact, youve been setting off mini collapses all over the place. She was quiet for a moment, Which is partially why the MWI agents have a target on your head. She scratched away at the sand. If this has happened before, why didnt you help me then? When my memory was better? Yes, well her voice sounded a little sheepish. I was the one sent to terminate you. And besides, both of those times you didnt remember everything. Just bits and pieces. She chuckled. You thought you were living in Joel Tudors bedroom. I dont know who that is and why didnt you terminate me? Too many questions. Lets get back to work. Her finger finished drawing. Okay, so heres how it goes, this is what a Wave Function looks like. She pointed to the drawing in the sand. It looked like math that I had forgotten to learn in calculus or algebra. I didnt understand half of the symbols. Im a firm believer that letters should never be allowed next to numbers, let alone form complex mathematical relationships with them. That resulted in mutated half-letter, half-number lovechildren. When an observer witnesses the Wave Function, this is what happens. She drew another formula, this one less frightening, with less numbers and letters. A v with a slash in it pointed to an italic i. That was it. Essentially, it means that this whole formula, when watched, turns into this. And this, she pointed to the new formula, means that all of your alternate universes collapse into one. So thats it? I just have to have someone watch me? Not quite. Suicide is different, especially an accidental suicide. Since you alone are in charge of your fate, you alone have the power to collapse the Wave Functions. I scratched my head. I could feel the back of my neck sweating. So I have to Watch myself die? And remember it. Watch myself die and remember it. Got it. Sounds simple. Sure, yeah, real simple. She stood up and brushed off her jeans.

First, we have to work on getting your memory back, and writing down everything you might ever forget. I stood too. I realized now how short she was. The top of her hooded head barely came to my shoulder. I couldnt believe that this petite little flower of a girl was the one sent to terminate me. It was almost embarrassing. Okay, whats something you remember about Forks? I peeled back my sleeve. The word FORKS stared up at me. I remember I shut my eyes. Forks. Forks. Forks was a city in Washington state. It mustve been cold there, or cooler. Washington state was known for being rainy. But it was nearly impossible to think about being in a cool, wet atmosphere when my blood was nearly boiling from the Arizona heat. I felt myself becoming more and more tightly wound. I remember trees? Youre making that up. Dont make things up. But there are trees in Washington. Yes, there are, but not ones that you remember. Think. Really think. I remember Jasper. Hes my best friend. My Cold. White. Slippery when wet. The dripping of a hammered faucet. I gasped. Oh god. I remember. Oh my god. My room my room has white tiled floors. I used to slip on them when Id take a shower. I chewed my lips, my eyes still squeezed closed. My My faucet leaks? At night. It must keep me awake. That and those stupid stars Emmett put on the ceiling. Sometimes they seem too bright I gasped again when I realized that my mouth was running without permission from my brain. And it had just spit out information I didnt even realize I knew. I had a funny feeling that beneath her hood, Bella was smiling. Excellent. You really do have an extraordinary memory. Under different circumstances you would have been great working for MWI. Probably as a mnemonic. A what? Someone who memorizes things. Its a lucky gift to have. It sounds boring. Her hooded head turned to the side. Well, if youre around someone long enough, youll start to recognize things about their face, the way they look when they lie or are genuine. Its almost like being a mind-reader. Is that why she wore that hood? I was beginning to ache with curiosity. Was she beautiful beneath that hood? What color were her eyes? Green, blue? I shook my head. No. No. I hated this girl. She was far beyond what you could call infuriating. She was crass, and rude and Youre really sweating. I rolled my eyes. Point proved.

Lets go inside, and when you remember something else, well write it down. Okay? I was beginning to feel like a very small child. I stalked in front of her and threw open the door. Maybe youd be sweaty too if you werent so friggin cold blooded, I mumbled, not even caring if she heard me. Why had I wondered about her eye color again? I sighed in irritation and trudged up the stairs. I looked down at my arm again. Find the girl in the red hood. She will help you. Yeah, I snorted. I should have written: Ignore the girl in the red hood, shell annoy the fuck out of you. As I walked through the house, the idea that this was a place Id never been became more and more apparent. I didnt recognize things, nothing felt familiar. The walls were white stucco, there was an ochre-pink accent wall in the kitchen behind a pine-wood bar. The tall barstools were wicker. I wrinkled my nose. Yeah, this wasnt right, Carlisle would never have wicker furniture unless it was out on a deck in the middle of summer. Carlisle would never have white stucco walls. Carlisle would Staffordshire porcelain dogs on mahogany tabletops. British fox hunting paintings. Royal Albert dessert plates in Cameo Pink stacked high in the Gustav Stickley cabinet. The solid-cherry Queen-Anne highboy. Edward? I blinked. Bella was standing in front of me. Her hands were braced up on my shoulders. Edward are you okay? I remembered. Oh my god, Bella, I looked down into her shadowed face and grabbed her shoulders back. I remembered things! I remember the house, Carlisles furniture his hideous Royal Albert plates! This was incredible. I remembered. I remembered. That means that means that everything she said was true. That Id accidentally killed myself, that Id killed myself four times since then. I frowned. This is great, Edward! Why are you frowning? She grabbed my hand. Come on, were going to go pick your brain and write it down. Two hours later, I still didnt remember much. I could list all of the furniture in the house, I could remember Carlisle silver tea-set that we only ever used for special occasions. But I couldnt remember anything else. I knew the name Alice, and Esme, and Emmett, but the names didnt mean anything. The only name that seemed to work was Carlisle. This would be a lot easier if you were fat. I looked down at Bella. She had ripped back my sleeve on my left arm and was writing things down, mostly about furniture. Thered be more room to write things, she huffed. Thats not how you spell Stickley. It has an e after the l. She sighed, irritated, and scribbled it out. Hey! I have limited real estate on my arm, dont scribble. She ignored me.

Maybe it would help if I played that game. The one you were talking about? I twirled the pack of cards in my right hand. She hummed. Okay, I guess it couldnt hurt. Although, I feel like we should be doing something more valuable with our time. She slid in front of me. Okay, deal. I cut the deck, You know how to play? She snorted, Ive only watched you play this game with Jasper every day of high school. I began dealing out into five piles. So we knew each other? In high school? I asked. Not quite. You didnt like to socialize with anyone other than Jasper. I sound kind of pathetic. She didnt answer. The middle pile had twelve cards, the two on either side held ten. Ladies first. I smiled at her. She hesitated, her chest seemed to move in, as if shed been punched. Without saying a word, her hand reached forward, and picked a card from the middle pile. She flipped it around. It was the Queen of Hearts. I winced. Bad card, pink up two. She drew two more. They were number cards. You know, She ran her finger along the edge of the queen shed just picked up. You remember an awful lot about this game. My hand hovered over the far left pile. She was right. I did. I remember exactly how to deal, how to play, what the cards meant. I turned over the card: Five of Clubs. Yeah, I guess I do. Jasper and his deep Southern voice. Esmes perfectly coifed hair, a ribbon pulled through it to keep it off her face. Alices in-air straddle that was the envy of the team. Emmetts smile that was hollow at the edges because of his small bite. I scrambled, I knocked over the cards trying to grab the pen. Bella backed up. Remember something? She grabbed another pen and reached after my arm, ready to write. Yeah, I panted. Jasper has an accent. And oh god. He likes guns. And the Civil War. He thinks Braxton Bragg is the greatest man to have ever lived.

She flipped my arm over and began scrawling away. Esme wears a ribbon in her hair when she bakes bread. Alice is a cheerleader shes a flyer. I started writing too. Emmett had to wear a special retainer because his bite was too narrow. But he never wore it so now his smile is hollow around the edges. We quickly ran out of room. My arms were completely covered. Bella grabbed my left arm, she flipped it over until Find the girl in the red hood showed face-up. She scribbled underneath of it. In her neat loopy handwriting she had written: Bella Swan There was a heart next to the name. She looked at me. Anything else? The doorbell rang. We looked at each other, frozen into stillness. No one was home. No one had been home all day. It was probably just Carlisle or Esme and theyd forgotten their key. Bella crept out onto the landing. I saw her stand on the tips of her toes to see out the window over the front door. When she got a good look, she slammed back down onto her heels and shrunk back against the wall. Her hooded face swiveled back to me, standing in the doorway of my room. Get down! She whispered. I immediately crouched, my heartbeat sent to skyrocketing. Whats going on? She looked back at the door. Its them Its an MWI agent. What? They mustve gotten wind of my failure to kill you. I mean, its been nearly a day since I was sent after you. Theyre here? What do we do? Run. We have to run. Go! She pushed me through my door and scrambled past me to my lone window. She stood on the couch, her skinny legs spread like a newborn giraffe as she struggled with the topmost latch on the window. I pushed her out of the way. Let me. From downstairs, the doorbell rang again. I gave one fantastic pull and the latch opened, I flew off the bed with my momentum and landed with a thud. We both froze as the door-handle jiggled. There was the sound of keys on a ring clinking together, and then the sliding of the door against the carpet. I looked over my shoulder, out my door, and saw a man standing in the foyer. His back was to me, his head covered by a bowler hat. He was wearing a dark grey suit.

Bella waved her hands frantically toward me, urging me to get up. But I knew once I did that the couch would creak and the man would turn to find both me and Bella squeezing out of a second-story window. He could be downstairs in a second and waiting for us outside. I didnt move. The man pivoted, slowly, eerily his movements impossibly smooth, as if he was being wheeled on the carpet. He turned around. His eyes were covered by perfectly circular black glasses, they wrapped around his head like goggles. He stared straight ahead for a few seconds, and then looked straight up the stairs, and into my eyes. Chapter 7. Five Of Clubs I felt the way a deer must feel in the approach of oncoming traffic. I was frozen. I could see now that they werent just goggles the man was wearing they looked more like the eye-pieces of a gas-mask, filter removed. I heard Bella yell my name, and then felt her small hand wrap around my wrist. And then I was up moving past Bella and hesitating for a mere second before jumping from the window. It was two stories two stories and nothing but a bed of rocky sand to break my fall. I landed mostly on my wrists. My knees ached, my hands stung where theyd flung out to break my fall. Tiny pieces of desert earth were lodged in my palm. I looked up to see Bella climbing from the window, feet first, her tiny arms holding her from the window pane. Just drop! Ill catch you! She glanced back over her shoulder and let go. I didnt catch her. Instead, I broke her fall. I rolled back onto my butt, my shoulders my head cracking on the ground as I took the full brunt of her weight. Her elbow landed square in my collarbone, her chin snapped on my chest. I heard teeth slamming together. For about two seconds I felt like the worlds biggest douche-bag then I realized that her hood had fallen back. Two more seconds, and I realized that Bella was on top of me not just on top but centered on my hips and chest, her brown hair was nestled beneath my chin. I didnt want to move. My very teenaged body was reacting to this very feminine figure that was lying on top of mine and I prayed to god she moved before she felt it. I was hard. I was hard. A girl fell on me from a two-story building and theres some psychotic-shithead wearing a gas-mask after us and I have an erection. Peachy. Bella. I pushed at her with my fingertips, hoping that she hadnt broken a leg or an arm or worse felt my boner and had frozen in shock. Bella! I hissed. Come on! Weve got to move! She rose up on shaky arms, her palms pressing on my chest. Are you okay? Im fine, I sat up, dislodging her. I had one look at her unhooded head, at her face. I felt a stab of recognition: full lips the color of summer berries, a small, turned-up nose, big doe-brown eyes. I felt the blood rush to my face, felt a cold chill run down my spine. I knew that face. I knew it. I knew it the way

that I knew those glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling, the way I knew the names Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, Alice. It did not make sense. I didnt understand. She tilted her head up, looked up at the window we had just fallen through. I saw her lips part as though in slow-motion, saw her hands move instinctively to pull the hood back over her head. I followed the line of her gaze, my mind working slowly almost backward the fear of being caught had been replaced by the fear of remembering someone Id never met. The black mask was there, staring down at us. Bella scrambled to her feet, her sneakered foot dragging precariously close to my crotch. She took off running, yelling back at me to follow. I stumbled. I dragged behind her, my knees aching from the fall and making popping noises as I ran. That face from the window the mask, the hat, the rubber gloves peeking over the window pane I convulsed. My stomach knotted up tight into cramps as the dry desert air came too slowly into my lungs. Bella was in front of me, her red hood flapping as she ran, her arm flung out behind her. I didnt want to look behind me, I didnt want to know if he was following on foot or if he had a car he could run us down in. Bella! Bella, wait! She was fast, but she ran in a weird, bumbling pattern, as if she was going to trip at any moment. I stretched my legs out and tried to catch her, wondering where we were going, wondering where we could hide in this desert landscape. We wove through scrappy bushes and scrubby, gnarled pines. She weaved through the backyards of stucco houses painted in beige and khaki colors. I met her quickly her legs were short and didnt hesitate when her small hand shot out to grip mine. Bella Bella arent you cant you I was trying to speak in between breaths. Cant you justtalk to this guy? No. She yanked me into the street. Bella What are you doing? We were standing next to a car some kind of hatchback. Her arm was snaking down through the crack in the window. Before she answered, she popped open the door lock. Stealing a car, of course. The hinge on my jaw stopped working: my mouth popped open. What?! You wouldnt happen to know how to hotwire a car, would you? I stared at her. Didnt think so. She popped the hood of the car. Youre about to get a lesson in car-jacking. Bella seriously cant we just catch a train or a bus or something? Do you see any trains around here? Any buses? I ran my eyes uneasily along the row of houses. We were right out on the street for Christs sake. She was holding a red wire.

Okay this is the coil wire. The coil wire has to go from the positive end of the coil to the positive end of the battery. Her hands moved as she worked. And now we just twist she grunted as she worked, the positive battery cable with the starter solenoid and were she gave another twist, her fingers cutting open with the motion. Good to go. Now get in! I slammed the hood closed and darted to the passenger side, looking over my shoulder as Bella revved the motor. I saw a black bowler hat round the corner, my eyes focused on the rubber mask. Bella. Floor it. She did. The pavement was sucked under the wheels as she pulled us into first gear then second then third. By the time we hit fifth the sleepy community of Camelback Village Estates had all but disappeared in the distance. I finally looked forward, and collapsed back onto the seat. It felt like I hadnt relaxed in ages. You all right? She asked. Are you? Youre bleeding. Her index and middle fingers were sluggishly pushing blood from her veins. The red was mixed with sandy brown dirt. Yeah. She swallowed audibly. Her head seemed to turn to the side. Does it hurt? No. Not too bad. I just hate that smell. Of blood? She nodded. I got the distinct impression she didnt want to open her mouth. Is there anything I could do? She had, after all, just saved my life. She shook her head. Bella. The idea suddenly came to me. What would happen? If the agents did catch me? Well, theyd probably hold you hostage. Make you work for them. Or theyd destroy you completely no more alternate universes, no more Wave Function riding. Just dead. I tilted my head back onto the head-rest and stared at the ceiling of the car. I dont want to be dead. She didnt respond. Why was that agent wearing those goggles? She was quiet for a long while. Youll come to find that travelling in the Wave Functions for a long time leads to certain maladies. My mouth went dry. Maladies? Most of the agents are barely passing for human anymore. The stretch of road was long and flat. There wasnt a car in sight.

What happens? When you travel through time and space so often and so voluntarily you succumb to something called decoherence. She switched hands on the wheel, rubbing the bleeding one on her jeans. Decoherence is basically the loss of systemic information into the environment. Like how I lose bits of my memory. Right. Now imagine traveling the Wave Functions for so long that you lose more than just your memory. Those men the agents they havent just lost their memory. Theyve lost their humanity, their emotions, and most of them have lost parts of their bodily systems. Bodily systems, I repeated faintly. As in? Hearts, brains, skin. Anything. Theres a reason why they wear that mask and that suit and those gloves. I stared out the window, trying to process the thought of a man who would fall apart beneath his clothes, who would voluntarily chose to travel the Wave Systems knowing hed lose himself. The scrubby bushes and bent pines gave way to pure desert. We drove for a long time in silence, my head buzzing with questions, Bella occasionally wiping her fingers on her jeans her fingers still bled. By the time the sun had fallen, my stomach was growling with hunger. Despite the adrenaline from having outrun an agent who was more of a rubber mask than a man, and despite having jumped from a two-story window, despite having high-jacked a car I couldnt stop thinking about her. Her face Id seen it. I kept replaying the memory in my head. I saw the way her hair coiled at the ends into messy spirals, the way her eyelashes curled up in the desert heat. She had pale skin and high cheekbones and attached earlobes. She had a freckle on her chin, by the side of her mouth, her bottom teeth were crooked. I knew I had never seen her before. But I couldnt shake the feeling that I recognized her. Bella? Hm? Her left knee was brought up to her chest as she drove, one hand draped lazily over the steering wheel. Did I ever know you? I didnt miss the way the car slowed, dropping into fourth gear. Why? Because I I recognize you. What? Her hooded face flashed to mine. In the side-lighting of the streetlamps I could see the outline of that familiar nose, the stubborn set of her chin. When you fell, I stopped looking at her and instead turned straight to stare out at the flat road. I saw your face. It looked familiar. She didnt say anything, just pushed down harder on the gas pedal. The engine gave a kick and lurched forward. Bella? What? Her voice was sharp.

Why do you wear that hood? Is it because of me? Just shut up, Edward. I turned away from her. Well then fine. Just just fucking fine. Never mind that Im supposed to trust you and I cant even see your face. I crossed my arms. Is it not enough that Im trying to help you? She shot back. I turned back and glared at her. No. Its not enough. I barely know who I am and I have some insane melting man after me for committing suicide in a past life, and my fucking guardian angel tells me to shut up, steals cars, and wont let me see her face. Honestly Bella. My life is fucked. So no. Its not enough. The car slowed to a stop. We were in the middle of the empty highway. There was nothing out here. Nothing but sand and rocks and sky. The air was pink in the sunset, the moon beginning to peek in the evening sky. The air in the car was getting thick. I saw dust lathered on the outside window. Bella was breathing steadily through her mouth. The sound was wet. Did I know you? I pressed. She gave a huff of a laugh. You could say that. When? A long time ago. Before Forks. Before you ever stole Carlisles gun to show Jasper. My pulse was pounding, I felt it throb in my neck. I felt like the force of my heartbeats were moving me rolling me back and forth. I thought you said that Forks was my home? It is. But you said you knew me before Forks. Yeah. So how can that be? Did I have a home before I Forks? Her head turned to the side, she stared out the window. Bella. My voice cracked. It broke. We lived in a borough in Pennsylvania. In Washington County. Outside of Pittsburgh. I could do nothing but stare at her, the edges of my eyes beginning to dry, the stale air of the cab stabbing at my retinas. What happened? We were best friends. You said you loved that you couldnt figure me out. Back then, you thought you knew everything about everyone. I studied the outline of her hood, the way the stitches were beginning to come loose. We had a pact. If we didnt get into Dartmouth, wed run away together.

Did we were we in love? Her shoulders hunched, she turned further toward the window. No. No. I watched as the stars began to filter out, began to wink in the firmament. When we didnt get accepted, and were about to hit the road our parents found out. My dad was chief of the police in town. They told us wed have to give up these dreams and go get a job. The sound of our breathing seemed to keep a tempo seemed to keep time. So we made another pact. We didnt want to end up like our parents we didnt want to have menial jobs and get married right out of high school and have kids. We didnt want to be bored. What was the new pact? I whispered. She turned toward me this time, and brought down her hood. Edward, we committed suicide.

Chapter 8. Three Of Spades A suicide pact, I breathed. An eerie silence descended on us. It didnt seem like Bella was breathing. Yes, Edward. A suicide pact. Because we didnt get into Dartmouth? Because we were going to run away? Dont ask me. It was your idea. Wind began to whisper through the sparse bushes, their twiggy stalks scratched together. The sand blew visibly across the windshield. I realized that the interior of the car smelled like smoke. So why didnt you stop me? The conversation had reached the heated equivalent of an over-boiled pot of water. There was nothing left to simmer. Because it was what you wanted. Well I was an idiot, I stated flatly. I was tired. My muscles ached. My palms had been scrubbed raw from my fall from the window. I didnt want to be here in this stupid hatchback that had tobacco stains on the seats in the middle of this stupid desert with some stupid agent chasing after us. I wanted to go home. Home to Forks. Home to that place that I barely remembered but must be better than here. You should have stopped me. Well I didnt okay? I didnt stop you then and I didnt stop you when you put the revolver to your head in Forks either. Or when you ODed in Biloxi, or when you drowned in Zuma Beach or opened your wrists in Fairbanks. And you know what? The next time you get it into your head that you want to die Im not going to stop you. Bitch. That was the only word that seemed to come to my lips. I wanted to slap her. I wanted to rip that hood off of her head and make her stare me in the face. I squeezed my hands into fists, until tiny crescents became indented in my palm.

Awesome. Thats just great, Bella. Im so fucking glad that I have you looking out for me. Christ. No wonder I didnt remember you. The instant I said those words was the instant I began regretting them. To her credit, Bella didnt move. Her face was turned, looking out the window. Her entire body stilled it didnt even look like she was breathing. Bella, I started, god, Bella, Im sorry. I shouldnt have said that. She exhaled one long, angry breath through her nose. And then her hand was slamming down on the gear-shift, yanking the car back into drive. I heard the distinct sound of rocks kicking up against the undercarriage of the car and then the tires were gobbling up the pavement as we sped forward. The rate of acceleration nearly gave me whiplash. I wish I had a pen. Because then, next to Bellas name and that innocuous looking heart alongside of it, I could have written: Do not piss off. Bella? She pushed harder on the pedal. Bella come on. Talk to me. Fuck you. A little globe of spittle landed on the steering wheel. It came to my attention that her hand was still bleeding. Hey, youre still bleeding. She wiped her hand on her jeans again. I sighed and flipped open the glove compartment, looking for a first-aid kit, or at the very least a bandaid. Dont fucking bother, she spit out. Why not? Youre hurt. Youve done worse. I slammed the glove compartment closed. Im so fucking sick of this. You realize that I have no idea what youre talking about, right? In case youve forgotten, my memory is shit. Im just barely remembering what my name is and youre speaking in riddles. I had the urgent desire to kick something. Preferably something ceramic while I wore steel-reinforced boots. The car slowed. Once we get to our destination, Ill tell you everything. But until then can you just shut up and let me think? Fine. I crossed my arms. But where are we headed? Wolfs Hole, Arizona. And how long is it going to take to get there? Six hours. Six hours? For what? Because right now, the agents are going to be looking for miniature collapses in wave functions. Theyre not going to expect you to stay alive. At least when we get to Wolfs Hole, we can work on

getting you a full-blown Wave Function Collapse and zipping you back to Forks before an agent finds us. Why Wolf Hole? Its one of the last great American ghost towns. Theyd never dream of looking for you there. I leaned my head back into the headrest and stared lazily out the window. How do you know so much? I said no more talking. I sighed and let myself become lulled by the trembling of the motor, and the vibration of rocks beneath the tires, and the sound of Bellas breathing. By the time I finally shut my eyes to fall asleep, Bella was smiling I could feel it. Edward. I was in the midst of a very good dream. A woman was on top of me shed fallen out of a window and had landed on me. She was so grateful that she took her shirt off and was working on shimmying out of her skirt. I was smiling at her, telling her how pretty she was with that long dark hair. She rubbed my arm. Edward. My name sounded nice in her voice. But then she poked me. Hard. In the ribs. Poke Poke. I scowled at her. Thats not nice, I said. She poked me again. Said my name. Edward. I told her it was okay, but please dont poke me again. Poke. Edward! My eyes shot open. It was pitch black. I could see nothing except the reflection of a white light on the chrome in the dash. I was in a car. I blinked. The white light was the moon. The woman from my dream poked me again. Ow! I turned toward the direction of the prodding finger. It wasnt the girl from my dream. It was Bella. What are you doing? I groaned and shut my eyes. I rolled over and faced out the window. Were here, its time to wake up. I pried my eyes apart again. There was nothing outside the glass of the passenger window. Just miles of blue desert and a streak of white where the moonlight cast onto the rocks. Where is here again? Wolfs Hole. I rolled toward her. Behind her shoulder, out of the drivers side window, were the decrepit remains of a town.

I could see the jagged wood of houses cleaved by lightning, the skeletal remains of storefronts, of apartments, of hitching posts bleached white by moonlight. It looked like the husk of a giant animal that had atrophied in the sand. Americas last great ghost town. She turned back toward me. Come on. I really have to pee. She climbed out of the car and began walking toward the row of houses. Belatedly, I realized I should follow. Why are we here again? I asked. To hide out. They wont look for us here. At least, not at first. I kicked a rock. The sound echoed between the buildings. The moon was high and full in the sky, it seemed heavy. Are you going to tell me now? I upheld my part of the deal. I didnt talk. Well, technically, do did talk. Quite a bit, actually. She squinted up at the moon. I was asleep. Yeah, I forgot what a sleep-talker you were. I opened my mouth and immediately closed it. I had been dreaming. Of a woman. I felt heat on my cheeks that had nothing to do with the desert air. I had a feeling she was smirking. Good dream, Edward? I crossed my arms. She laughed silently. I glared at her. You laugh weird. She stopped. No I dont. Ooh, what are you self-conscious? I teased. I bet you really laugh like a donkey. She shrugged. Oh yeah? Too bad you get boners when girls fall out of windows on you. My entire face heated. I balled my hands into fists. Too bad you felt my boner and liked it! I laughed and expected her to laugh too. But she didnt. She turned away from me. Seriously Edward. Lets just stop this. I stopped laughing. Bella Im sorry. Christ on a stick she was moody. I sighed. Youre impossible, you know. Thanks, she said. Her voice sounded flat.

Seriously, Bella, tell me whats going on. She spun back around. Right now, we dont have time. The agents are looking for us and were standing around arguing or joking over stupid things. I dug my hands into my pockets.Okay. Fine. Lets be serious: Why did you not end up in Forks, Bella? Hm? Why did you become an MWI agent and not me? Because I remembered. Because they caught me. And you didnt remember enough of me to come looking. Thats not my fault. She threw her hands up in the air. Of course its not. I ignored her. She was answering questions and that was more important than my ego. Why arent you falling apart? Like that guy who was after us? Because apparently Im a little different. Apparently, the same reason that you could never figure me out is the same reason that protects me from turning into a pile of goo. Is the same reason that when I committed suicide, I remembered everything. They call it a Bell state. It was named after me. She began pacing, back and forth, small stone kicking out from beneath her shoes. I'm breaking down though-- It's been failing. I was barely listening. Why were you sent to kill me if you knew me at one point why would they thats precisely why they sent me. Because they knew that I knew you best. That I would know how your mind worked, how to catch you. They just didnt count on me She paused. She stopped pacing. On you? On you what? Her hooded face swiveled toward me. I could see nothing beneath her hood. Nothing. It was my turn to throw my hands in the air. This is such bullshit. Bella talk to me! When she was silent, I stalked toward her. Why do you wear this hood? Why did you let me die all of those times after the incident in Forks? Why Bella? Why!? I grabbed her small shoulders. They tensed beneath my hands. It was silent for a long stretch of time. I could feel her warm breath blowing on my lips. You didnt like me the first time. Her voice was so small I had to strain to hear it; even in the silent night-air, with no evening insects singing or chirping, with only the wind moving stealthily through the decaying houses. So I let you go. Her shoulders relaxed, slumped down under the weight of my hands. I slid my palms off her shoulders as the weight of her statement settled in. You still dont like me.

I didnt know what to say. Why do you wear that hood? I knew it was probably the worst thing to bring up to ask her another question. But I didnt want the silence to stretch onward, I didnt want her to take my speechlessness as an indication that her speculation was true. Even if it was. I didnt want you to recognize me. I thought that maybe maybe youd fall in love with my personality and then once you knew it was me then then youd I looked down at my feet. The anger of our argument left me feeling deflated. The air felt awkward on my face. I saw her move her head away, saw her wipe her hand on her jeans again. Oh here. I grabbed the hem of my tee-shirt and pulled. Nothing happened. It was, apparently, far better made than I gave it credit for. I pulled again. The fibers stretched out, but didnt break. Clearing my throat as the awkward situation became increasingly more awkward, I ripped again. Bella was making funny sounds in her throat. At least she wasnt crying. When I tried for a fourth time and the shirt still didnt rip, she burst out laughing. No. Not laughing. Snorting. They were great heaving snorts too. There was nothing dainty about the sound that came flying from her nostrils. It sounded painful. Now I know why you dont laugh, I teased, trying to lighten the conversation. A dewy forest dressed in morning light. Bare feet on a mossy forest floor. Pink toe-nail polish and twin braids. Lips the color of the raspberries she was eating. Eyes the color of cedar-trees. I gasped. I blinked. For a total of three seconds I grasped after the image. Trying to find where such beauty had disappeared to. The image was gone the smell of rotting leaves and summer heat and brambles at sun-rise was gone. The only smell now was sand, gritty and dry. Edward? Bella I remembered something. What was it? She was already digging around in her pockets, reaching inside of her hoodie for what I could only guess was a pen. It was a forest in the morning. We were picking berries. From the corner of my eye I saw her still, saw her hand freeze inside her jacket. We? I looked at her. Yes. We. You and me. You had pink toenails. I heard her swallow. Why would you remember that now? I dont know but Bella! This is great! Lets go look for a pen! I grabbed her shoulders again. I felt my smile fall. Why arent you happy?

She shrugged. I am, I just you shocked me. I released her and looked down. Oh, I forgot. I smirked at her and ripped again at my shirt. This time it worked. I tore a hefty amount from the hem, thankful that it was a long shirt, and brought the cloth toward Bella. I had remembered. I had remembered something that I didnt even know I knew. I felt exceptionally proud of myself, even despite Bellas odd reaction. I had remembered. I could fly. I grabbed her hand. May I? I felt her pulse spike under my fingers. Her wrist ached with it. Sure. But her voice was steady. I wrapped the shirt around her hand oncetwice and was surprised at how small her palm was. Would you be amenable to sleeping before we start on this whole Wave Collapsing project? I inspected my handiwork. You slept in the car. I shrugged. I like to sleep. And besides, you didnt get to sleep. You must be tired. She stared at me for a long while. You dont have to do this, you know. Do what? Be nice to me. Because you think Im some sad, lonely girl. Im Im not. Bella I was just Just stop. Okay? She rubbed at the makeshift bandage and walked toward the car. You can sleep in the passenger seat. I call the back. I followed her back to the car, wondering why I remembered the taste of raspberries.

Chapter 9. Eight Of Hearts I couldnt sleep. Bella was dozing fitfully in the backseat. It hadnt escaped my attention that her hand was still bleeding Id been watching it for the past hour, bleeding through the white cloth of my shirt. First the fibers were dyed red, the color webbed out a few minutes later, the cloth was sopping. It made drip drip drip sounds on the carpet of the backseat. Id been mulling over the information shed thrown at me. Wed known each other, that much was a given. She she liked me. She was also supposed to kill me, was trying to help me, and was determined to not fall in love again. I rested my temple against the passenger seat and stared back at her.

But Bella was different. She had a theory named after her: Bell state. And that Bell state was the only thing that was keeping her from melting away like the rest of the MWI agents. My eyes roamed back to the drip-dripping of her blood on the carpet. Something about it didnt seem right. Why had the wound not healed? Against my better judgment, my hand snaked over the armrest and gently grasped her palm. It was warm and clammy and heavy. I turned it over. The piece of my tee-shirt was completely drenched. I picked up the edge of it to stare at the wound underneath. It was as red and fresh as if it had just been cut. No healing, no clotting, not even the rusty red flakes of blood that had already dried. No I dropped her hand Bella wasnt healing. I narrowed my eyes, wondering if rules about blood loss applied to someone who could travel to different universes. I slid my eyes up to the dark shadow that was her face. In the filtered moonlight I could see the white outline of her turned-up nose and the fullness of her bottom lip. I shifted, leaning out further on the armrest. The plastic edge of it dug painfully into the soft area just below my ribcage, my back was twisted like a snake. But I wanted to be closer to her. I wanted to figure her out figure us out. My fingers itched to take the back of that hood between my thumb and forefinger and yank it down, snatch the zipper on her hoodie and jerk that down and off and push that innocuous red fabric to the ground. What did she look like under that hood? Id seen her nose, parts of her lips, a flash of her eyes Id seen the memory of us in the woods together, but I wanted the whole thing. I wanted to see her eyes and cheeks and chin and the back of her head; see those tiny shoulders fill out a tiny tee-shirt. Why hadnt I remembered her? It didnt make sense that I didnt. I wouldnt remember someone like Emmett, someone who has a good heart and good smile and is otherwise rather boring. But Bella I would have remembered. I thought about watching her hot-wire this car, about watching her explain wave-function collapsing as though it was the most simple thing in the world yeah, I definitely would have remembered her. I stared down at the zipper on her hoodie. I wanted that damn hoodie off. It was stifling in the car, the windows were mostly fogged but I was too timid to lower the windows, for fear that dust or an agent could sneak inside. She must be hot. I was hot and I was only wearing jeans the sweaty skin of my bare stomach was sticking to the armrest. Bella, I whispered. I dont really know why I was whispering. By all means, I wanted her to wake up. Bella, I whispered again. She shifted, but didnt wake up. I reached out towards her. It would be in her best interested to do this, in my best interest. She would get a much better nights rest this way and would therefore be well-rested and better able to get me back home. I reached until my fingers grasped the small metal pulley on her zipper. From up this close, I noticed that it was an apple. I furrowed my brow and rubbed it with my thumb. What an odd shape for a pull tab on a zipper. In this low-light, it looked like brushed copper. I had rubbed it once, twice, then my heart leapt into my throat as her hot, wet hand grasped around my wrist. I jerked back, losing my balance and falling painfully off of the armrest I was so delicately balanced on. Bella groaned. The hell are you doing? She mumbled, her voice was thick with sleep.

Suddenly and completely embarrassed, I didnt respond. Or move. I just stayed, slightly curled up and entirely uncomfortable in a twisted shape in the passenger seat. I know youre awake, Edward, Bella said irritably. I could hear her rustle in the backseat and felt her sit up. I clenched my jaw, kept my eyes down. In the next moment, she popped her hooded head over the divide. I could feel her stare. Mortified, I looked up at her. I tried what was certain to be a sheepish smile. Edward. Hi Bella. Were you pulling on my hoodie? It was barely a question. I bit my lip. Yes. Why. Definitely not a question this time. I thought youd be hot? She stared at me for a moment longer, then sighed and fanned herself. It is really hot in here, she commented. I was crossing my fingers that I was off the hook. I looked down at my arm, to where her name was with that innocent little heart. Yeah, I definitely needed to write, do not piss off. What are you doing awake? This sleeping business was your idea. I shrugged and squirmed upwards from my grossly uncomfortable position. I dont know. I couldnt sleep. I heard her yawn and then sink into the back seat. Were you thinking about something? She asked. I sat up further. I was thinking about us. She made a noise in the back of her throat. What about us? I want to know things, I said quietly, shifting to stare out the windshield at the high, white moon and the unbroken expanse of sand. I want to know why you just went along with me when we committed suicide. I heard her breathing in the backseat. I wouldve done anything for you, she paused, back then. Why did you love me? The words had been miraculously easy to say. I didnt hear anything in the backseat, no rustling, no breathing. I turned my head to look over my shoulder. She was fiddling with the pull-tab of her hoodie. In one swift movement, she pulled it down. It hung open in the front for a moment, then she was shrugging out of it. I watched as her skin was revealed as if it was the most amazing magic trick in the world. She was not wearing a shirt, just a plain black bra that divided her skin into two white shapes. She was thin probably too thin her ribs were visible and her breasts were too small for the cups of her bra. Her tiny shoulders shrugged up.

I finally looked at her face. Her lips were moving. Were two halves of one whole, Edward. Whether you want to believe in that or not. I blinked. Her face heart-shaped, pale, with a pert mouth and big doe-like eyes. Dark hair that curled at the ends and was sweaty and sticking to her forehead. Ears that were cute and small and perfect. Belatedly, I realized my mouth was open. I shut it. Bella was shit, Bella was beautiful. The Bell state, she said softly. Her voice sounded different now that I could see the way her lips curved around her words. The way her stubborn little chin moved as she spoke. It applies to both of us. She had tiny shoulders. Her arms were thin. Her belly button was a tiny crescent with a curving scar beneath it. We only make sense when were together. I wanted to see all of her. Her knobby knees and her skinny thighs, the way her hair would look over the ridges in her spine. She was gloriously familiar, and fantastically strange. I knew her. I had a strange understanding of what her skin would feel like beneath my hands, what the hollow of her throat tasted like, how that place on the back of her neck smelled when she was hot and sweating. Make sense? I asked vaguely. Dont you understand? Her dark eyes looked wet. Understand? I dragged my eyes up her breastbone. I guess you wouldnt, really. She shook her head. I was wrong to make you feel bad about not remembering. Her chin tucked into her chest. It wasnt your fault. She inhaled deeply. I watched as her chest rose. Your memory you stopped remembering things. The first three times you committed suicide you remembered everything, but not now. I stopped staring at her long enough to look down at the carpet, to the puddle of blood from her hand. It looked black in the shadows. Think about the variables in this equation, Edward. I furrowed my brows, I tried to concentrate. When it was silent for a full minute, Bella spoke again. We committed suicide in Pennsylvania, then showed up in Forks. I was there, and you didnt remember anything. You died in Forks, showed up in LA and remembered everything. And again in Fairbanks. Dont you see? I looked up at her. Every time were together, your memory doesnt work. Every time were apart, you remember everything. What? The Bell state. We only function as normal people would when were together. Two halves I drew off, felt the heat of panic running up my spine. Its not normal for people to die and remember everything in their past life, Edward. Then why did you find me? I asked desperately, looking up at her with hollow eyes.

I cant stay away from you anymore. But what about you? What does that Bella looked solemnly down at her hand. I followed her gaze, and watched her blood drip down on the floor. I was panicking, that much was certain. For two hours I had been sitting up in the drivers seat, staring out at the skeletal remains of a ghost town and trying to get my breathing under control. Bella was Bella was the reason I couldnt remember things. She was also the only way I could get back home. She had a store of knowledge about things I could only ever hope to know and she was mostly unwilling to share that knowledge with me. I felt myself hyperventilating again, felt my lungs contracting and expanding and making me dizzy with the abundance of oxygen. Bella was also she was also melting. In the same way that the MWI agents were melting. We were like parasites, like vampires we needed each other to live, to get back, to move forward but we were slowly destroying each other in the process. I felt myself sweat. Bella, who obviously already had time to digest this information, was asleep in the backseat. Again. I tried to be comforted by her steady breathing. Edward. It was barely a whisper, but I heard it. I turned around to see her. Edward. I studied the curve of her neck, the shock of her dark hair that had turned black in such dim light. She had shrugged out from beneath her hoodie that shed been using as a blanket and now I could see the frayed black strap of her bra over her shoulder. It looked worn worn and like it hadnt been taken off of her in a few weeks. I couldnt even enjoy her lovely half-nakedness. I stared at it, the way it divided her white shoulder and made her arm into an abstract shape that seemed to float against the shadow of the backseat. Beyond her, in the hatchback, was the fuzzy silhouetted skyline of empty water bottles and trash and a spare tire that was backlit by the very full moon. I rested my head on the arm rest and tried to get comfortable, tried to slow my racing heart. I watched a bead of sweat form slowly on Bellas temple, then ride the curves of her face down into the crook of her arm. Her lips were moving. I straightened up to get a better look maybe I could read them and leaned into the backseat. Edward. From back here, I could hear the dripping of her blood on the carpet. It unnerved me. Feeling suddenly like a voyeur, I turned back around. My heart stopped. There was no other phrase that could capture the abrupt syncopation of my heartbeat the alkaline shot of adrenaline straight to my chest as I saw it: The black silhouette of a man, standing in front of the car.

Bella. I dont know why I whispered her name, why I didnt scream it instead. My throat was closing up tight, I could taste my heartbeat in the roof of my mouth. Bella! I groped behind me for her, for an arm or a leg. I grabbed her hand my fingers slipped in the blood. The bloody rag fell to the floor with a wet smack. Edward? My name came in the form of Bellas groggy voice. The silhouette of the man had yet to move. I wondered, if by some miraculous luck, whether he could see us. But then Bella saw what I saw Her hand was on my shoulder. I felt the slickness of it, felt a drop of something wet roll down my shoulder and under my arm. Edward go Edward drive. I fumbled for the ignition, my hand shook so badly I couldnt find the key then Bella was climbing up from the backseat, into the passenger side. Whatre you Just drive. She opened the car door and stumbled out the black mask turned toward her and I reached after her desperately, her name on my lips, in the air. She turned toward me and yelled go! And then took a hesitant step towards the agent. I flung myself over the seat towards her, reaching for the open door. Bella! But she ignored me, walking backwards away from the car. Her eyes wide and wild and looking at me desperately pleading I shoved the key in the ignition and the engine lurched into life. I slammed down on the gas without changing it into drive heard the motor rev then yanked down on the shift. I heard the gears crunch and grind themselves flat heard the stones spitting up into the undercarriage of the car. And then I was out, driving into the heart of the ghost town. I wondered what to do to go back for Bella? I glanced into the rearview and saw her running into the desert. I pulled my eyes from her reflection just in time to see the mask of another agent standing five feet from the car. But it was too late I was driving too fast and I clipped his arm as I careened past him. I glanced in the side mirror to see his arm dripping off away from his body, globs of flesh slinking away from the exposed bone. I tried to breathe wanted to vomit and swerved back around, needing to find Bella, needing to rescue her like she rescued me. I turned in the middle of the tiny street to see that I was surrounded, that there were agents lined shoulder to shoulder. I couldnt get out. Claustrophobia set in. There were more and more they multiplied I stared out beyond them to the desert, trying to find the pale shape of Bella in the moonlight. But I couldnt. I glanced in the mirror again. Behind me, more were emerging from the broken buildings. In a second flat I made up my mind. I could get out of this. I could restart. I reached behind me, grabbed Bellas hoodie, and steeled myself for what I was about to do. Not really focusing, not really caring, I pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

I broke through the line of bodies. An agent was propelled up and onto the bonnet of my car, the impact shattering the windshield, his blood sprayed through the fractures. The weight of him rolled to the side, off the car I heard the thud, heavy with lifelessness, on the cracked pavement. I sped forward, not breathing, not aware and steered the car into the decaying metal of the abandoned warehouse. I had one frantic millisecond of pain and violence and the screaming of steel on steel, my face slamming against the driver-side window where a bruise instantly billowed up and began gorging itself on blood and then nothing no transition just a catapulting from quiet interlude to a cacophony of metalized death.

Chapter 10. Jack Of Diamonds For the first time in what seemed like ages, I had to confront my own body. I was a living encyclopedia of pain and unfamiliar discharges. The steering column jutted into my chest, the frosted glass of the speedometer spilled on my lap, a haze of murky blood was thrown in Jackson Pollock style across the bonnet of the car and the entire interior. I did not die on impact. I sat, my ribs poking through my skin, for what seemed like hours. I heard the scuffling of what I knew to be agents sliding toward the car. I felt the hungry gobbling of the bruise on my cheek as it sucked up more and more blood, as it throbbed and kept time. It wasnt for a full five minutes later thanks to the digital clock on the dash that I finally saw the edges of my vision blur, and darken, and go out. I moved toward the light. I opened my eyes and did not move. Very, very slowly, I reached down and cupped my side. I moved my fingers carefully, expecting to find it, expecting to feel it. I did not breathe. But my fingers felt nothing no exposed ribs, no opened aperture of flesh. I inhaled, tentatively. Nothing. No pain. I rose my head up off the bed and looked down at myself. There was no wound, no blood, no splattering of glass or metal instruments from the dashboard. I was clean. Bella. I have to find her. I looked up. Drippy stars hung down at me. They glowed faintly. I turned my head to face out the window. Where was I? It was dark, with light beginning to peak through the trees. It looked like dawn. I sat up. At that instant, someone began pounding on the door. Wake up, Edward! It sounded like Emmett but the sound was deeper, less articulate. The handle of the door turned, and opened.

Emmett stepped inside, followed quickly by Alice. Only it wasnt Emmett. At least, not as my faint memory of him recalled. He had a goofy smile on his face. His eyes looked small and unfocused. Alice sighed cheerfully from the door. Good morning, Edward. Em couldnt wait to finish your game, she said. Her hair was brown, and long, and curly. She didnt look quite like Alice either. My memory of her was limited too. I blinked and looked between them. Alice gave me a knowing look. Uh, hi Em, I said, watching Emmett carefully as he climbed up onto the white couch I was sitting on. We play kings, Eddie! He clapped his hands together merrily. He had a strange sort of accent. Almost Southern sounding with a definite drawl. Alice sat down next to him on the couch. She was staring at me curiously. Rough night, Edward? She asked. Her voice was serious, her tight smile did not reach her eyes. Could she know? Could Alice possibly know or understand what had happened? The Bell State. Bella had been right I remembered. I remembered as far back as Arizona? I remembered being outside in the heat, I remembered waking up violently, vomiting I remembered Bella hot-wiring a car, speeding off into the desert night I remembered I remembered Dying. I remembered dying. I stared at Alice. She looked evenly back at me. Eddie. Lets play. Emmett was waving his hands toward me, trying to get my attention. I tried a smile at him. Whatre we playing? I asked, keeping my eyes on Alice. Suicide King. I felt my lungs seize up in panic. My throat became suddenly tight. Alice began dealing out into neat piles, her movements smooth. I whipped my head around to stare out the window. It was nearly light outside where was Bella? How would I ever find her again? Had she followed me here? Eddie, Emmett said indignantly. Your turn. I moved to pick up from the center pile, but before I got there Emmetts huge hand shot out and grabbed mine. I jumped. Whats this? He asked, curious. My arms were covered in writing in Bellas penmanship and mine. He slapped at the words that said, First things first, stay calm. I yanked my arm back. I was its for a test. Ooh, Eddies cheating? I smiled at his child-like teasing. Shhh, I shushed, leaning towards him. He giggled. Her handwriting is much neater than yours, Edward, Alice noted. My heart froze in my chest. I didnt know how to respond.

Do you know her? I asked carefully, picking up a card and showing it to Emmett: ten of spades. Bella? Of course. She does go to our school you know. Right, I responded absently. I turned over a new card: Jack of Diamonds. I could feel Alice staring at me from the corner of my eyes. It was my turn again, this time, before I even picked up a card I knew I would be out. I turned the card over, not even bothering to look at it, not wanting to see the red of the heart or the kings vacant face. No fair! Short game. We play again, Emmett decided. I dont think so, Emmy. Edwards busy today. Alice gave me an even stare. But I can play with you. Emmett turned to stare at her, considering her as an opponent. Okay. He slid off the couch and bounded down the stairs. Alice stacked the piles into a deck. Jaspers worried about you, you know. Jasper. I remembered him. He was my best friend. Youve been gone a long time. Ive what? You should go see him. Jasper I mean. Wait Alice But she ignored me, straightening the deck of cards and then leaning in towards my face in one smooth gesture. Her dark, dark eyes were inches from mine. When she whispered, I felt her breath on my lips. Follow the white rabbit, Edward. Alice I grasped after her, but she turned and walked out my door. I looked out the window again, to the raw golden fields and the line of trees that hedged the horizon. I needed to find Bella. I stood from the couch, reaching for the door-handle, looking back just once To find that Bellas red hoodie was lying on my couch. It was by good fortune that Jasper happened to be walking to get the mail. I spotted him from the front porch. Jasper! I wouldve recognized him anywhere even if my memory of him was foggy at best. Long legs, thin arms, that square chin with the faint cleft in it. I jogged towards him. Edward, Ive been looking everywhere for you. Whereve you been? Uhm, at home?

Your mom said you were out? Oh, well, yeah theres this girl Ive been Christ why didnt you say so. If I knew it was a girl I wouldnt have been houndin after you so hard. His grin was easy. He picked at the red hoodie I was now wearing. This is uh, a little tight dont you think? Oh. Yeah. Mom shrunk it, I lied. Ohh, bummer. Yeah. The sputtering of a motor could be heard from the road. A moment later, a small, white car rolled into view and stopped in front of Jaspers mailbox. Hey Jazz, a pleasant voice sounded from the rolled-down window of the car. Hey Jake. Jasper bent down to peer inside the car. Hows she running? Great, the voice called. Do you mind if Edward joins in? Not at all, if he doesnt mind being squished in the backseat. The voice laughed. Jasper turned to me. What dyou say? You wanna come? Oh, geez. Uhm, I stalled, nervous to find Bella again, not wanting to waste anymore time dilly-dallying around when agents were hot on my heels and my girl was missing. Come on, itll be fun. Where are you headed? Maybe it would be a good idea to get out of here. Jasper shrugged, who knows. Wherever the wind blows us. Okay, I nodded at them, climbing in the cramped backseat. There was no backdoor. As I settled in the middle seat, the smell of tobacco hit my nose. I pivoted to stare out the back of the car. It was a hatchback behind the rear seat was a mountain of empty water bottles. I was overcome with nostalgia. What kind of car is this? I asked, feeling the hair on the back of my neck stand up. A 1986 Rabbit. I felt the blood run out of my face. Follow the white rabbit. But more than Alices words, more than the bizarre planning she mustve done to spook me was the sense that I had been here, in this car, before. The tobacco smell that was ingrained in the seat, the skyline of trash in the trunk, the hatchback, the I looked down, onto the floor that was between my feet. There, on the carpet, was a puddle of dark liquid. Next to it was a ripped piece of fabric, sopping wet.

This was the car Bella had hotwired, I knew it. I felt it. This was the car Id crashed into a building. This was the car I died in. I looked up and out the windshield, trying to focus on the sky.

Chapter 11. Six Of Clubs I didnt know how long Id been in that car. It was as hot as I remembered, it smelled how I remembered. I pressed myself into the backseat, closing my eyes. I tried to imagine Bella here, the curve of her spine pressed into the nylon seats. I rubbed absently at the pull-tab of her hoodie. I didnt know where we were, and I didnt want to ask. There were fields that spanned from horizon to horizon, broken only by patches of trees. Low clouds hung in the sky, a strange wind turned tree leaves to their white bellies. Jasper and Jake were discussing car parts in the front seat. I tried to listen. But mostly, I was worried. I was worried how long Id have until an agent found his way toward me, how long Id have to wait to see Bella again. I missed her. I missed her strange snorting laugh and her matter-of-fact way of speaking. I missed the way shed roll her eyes at me. I missed the memories I had of her. I replayed the one of us in the forest over and over again like a favorite childhood movie. I did not know whether the memory became clearer with each replaying, or if I was now making things up where holes used to be. The helplessness of my situation was descending on me. Riding in the back of the Rabbit, Jasper and Jake talking like nothing was wrong, like nothing had changed, made me realize how bleak my future was. If I was with Bella, I could stop remembering, could stop dying, could stop setting off wave-function collapses and the agents would have no reason to keep looking for me. If I was with Bella, we could go home. She could come with me, stop being an agent, stop working for the MWI. I rubbed at my face. I had a good weeks worth of scruff on my face. I wondered absently if Bella liked men unshaven. How could I ever find her again? In the past, she had found me. Shed been sitting on my desk when Id woken up in Arizona. The part of me that was back in Wolfs Hole, steering the car towards the warehouse, believed that shed be waiting for me in my next life too. But I was wrong. Where could she be? Had she followed me into the world? Part of me died at the realization that Bella could very well still be in Arizona, in that previous universe, searching the ruins of the ghost town looking for me. I wondered if I left behind a body some way for her to know that I was gone and that she should follow. I leaned my forehead against the glass. Yeah, shes cute. I mean, I cant really say because Im dating Alice Cullen. Come on. Jake snorted. Alice is all right. He glanced into the backseat.

No offense, Edward. I dont mean to talk about your sister that way. I looked toward him. What? I hadnt been paying attention. Never mind, Jake waved me off and went back to Jasper. So yeah, we went out to the movies the other night, but get this, Newton came with us. What? Jasper was outraged. On a date? Did you tell him to get the fuck out? I listened to Jacobs laugh, feeling detached. You know how Bella is she cant say no to anyone. For a few seconds, I actually thought he said Bella. I straightened up, regardless, and tried to listen actively to their conversation. Yeah, she has a tendency to do that, Jasper agreed. But still Newton? God, Jasper had his head in his hands. Hes beyond annoying. Hes a cockblocker extraordinaire, Jake agreed. For a while, I actually thought Bella had a thing for him. What? Really? Jacobs mouth was slightly open. No way, she detests him, he finished, finally closing his mouth. I blinked. Then blinked again. Wait, I said, trying to find my voice. Did you just say Bella? Jacob swiveled in to look in the backseat. Yeah! He grinned. You know Bella, right? I think she has bio with you. I tried to smile, just to keep appearances up. But I couldnt. Unconsciously, I rubbed her name on my arm, beneath her hooded sweatshirt. Youre dating her? My voice cracked. I tried to clear my throat. Kind of, shes a little elusive, he laughed. I didnt even try to laugh this time. No. No no no, Bella was mine. Bella was we were two halves of the same whole, we needed each other. She couldnt be with this Jacob fellow. No. I knew that this wasnt really Bella. Not my Bella, not my MWI agent, universe-tramp Bella. This was just a clone of her, like there were clones of me taking my place in all of these alternate universes. I wondered what she looked like here, in this world, I wondered if shed still snort when she laughs or wear a red hoodie or know just about everything. I wondered if this Bella knew this me. If we liked each other, or were even friends. I choked off the dry sound that was rising in my throat and tried to stare back out the window. I caught Jacob eyeing me in the rearview. You okay? You look a little green. I nodded mutely. You carsick, Cullen? Jasper poked his head into the backseat. I nodded at him.

Oh shit, dude. You should get out. Im pulling over. Jacob swerved the car to the shoulder of the narrow road and quickly hopped out of the car. Relax, Jake, he doesnt look like hes gonna toss his Fruit Loops just yet, Jasper commented from his seat which was a safe enough distance in the front. I stumbled out anyway, actually feeling sick all of a sudden. The air was cooler than I remembered, and felt good pooling into my lungs. The clouds were dark and heavy and the faint beginnings of a storm seemed to rumble in the distance. The wind picked up. The field trembled and flattened. The wheat seemed to undulate, like water, like the ocean, turning from gold to grey and back again. I did not want to look at Jacob, although he was moving over towards me, his hands outstretched. I felt him touch my shoulder. You okay? I nodded at him, wanting him to stop touching me, to get away, to change his mind about the Bella that existed in this life. I was staring at the tree-line, gulping in air like I hadnt breathed in ages. It felt good to stare, to let my eyes rest on one area in the distance and not have to focus on what was happening in real time. The colors along the edge of the forest seemed to tumble and shift. I heard Jasper calling to Jacob from inside the car. I dont know, hes just standing here. I heard Jacobs voice as if detached from myself. The shadow at the edge of the trees started to make sense. I narrowed my eyes, tried to focus. It was so far away almost a mile. I squinted harder, took a hesitant step toward the field. Edward? I heard Jaspers voice now. Edward? Wherere you going? I heard his boots crunch on the gravel off the shoulder of the road. I walked into the field. White, brown, black. I knew those colors I knew that shape. I began running, the ground was uneven I stumbled a few times and moved toward the figure at the edge of the woods. I knew it was her. It made sense. Of course she would be here. Of course she would find me. The wheat itched against my hands, it scratched the exposed skin where Bellas hoodie had ridden up. I felt buggy and humid, like I needed a shower. I definitely needed food. But she was so close I could see her more clearly now, her back to the field, her bare shoulder hunched up as if she was hugging herself very, very tight. Bella! My voice was thin, weaker than I wanted. It seemed to get lost in the wind. Edward! But it wasnt Bellas voice it was Jaspers. He was following after me. I turned my head to see him wading through the waist-high grass. I turned back, to find that Bella had disappeared.

No, I whispered, scanning the tree-line, trying to find where shed gone. No, I said, this time more loudly, running full-speed toward the woods. But there was nothing there. No Bella, no footprints. There was no evidence that what Id seen was real. Christ, Edward. What the hell are you doing? Jasper asked in between gulps of air. She was here, I stated flatly. You saw her, didnt you? I asked, pacing the spot where Id seen her. Who? Jasper had his hand over his heart, trying to catch his breath. The girl the girl with the dark hair and light skin. She was standing right here. I pointed to the ground. He shook his head slowly, trying to comprehend. Edward, there was no one here. No. No. I saw her. It was Bella. Bella? Jakes girl? I balled my hands into fists. She is not Jakes girl, I ground out through clenched teeth. Woah, easy man. He took a step toward me. She was here. She was right here. Maybe you should sit down, he advised. I have to find her. Dont you get it? I could myself unraveling. What if I didnt find her? Find who? Bella? Yes. Bella. Edward he scratched the back of his head. I dont know if you should talk like this when we get back to the car. Jazz. I turned to him desperately, grabbing onto his shoulders and feeling his sweaty skin beneath the thin fabric of his tee shirt. I need her, I whispered. Jaspers hazel eyes grew soft, he looked at me as if he was finally seeing me. Encouraged by his silence, I continued. You know how you feel about Alice? Thats how I feel about Bella. Only bigger. I need her. This isnt even I dont need to go out with her, or kiss her. I just need to be with her. Jasper caught my wrist with his left hand, the one that was still braced on his shoulder. He tugged at the sleeve of the hoodie. Esme didnt shrink this, he commented. I shook my head. No, she didnt. He turned his head to look at Jake, who threw his arms up, waiting. Come back home with me, back home. We can go to your house after Jake drops us off. He wont have to know.

He didnt get it. The Bella that lived here was not the Bella I was talking about. No, Jazz, you dont understand shes not the same Bella. He furrowed his eyebrows. Bellas out there. I nodded toward the woods. I know it. Im not letting you run out there with no way of getting home. Were fifteen miles out! Ill walk home, I lied. His grasp on my wrist tightened. Youre being ridiculous. There was no one out here! He tugged on my arm. Lets go, Jake is waiting. I resisted for a brief moment, then followed him. He made it twenty feet into the wheat field before he dropped my hand. The second he did, I turned and sprinted back towards the woods. Edward! I heard his voice yell, then a loud oath, and I hoped he wasnt following me. I ran into the woods, not caring where I was headed, just as long as Jasper lost my trail and I could find Bella again. I could imagine her here red hood drawn up. I pulled it up over my head as I ran, stumbling over tree roots. It barely covered my head. Bella! I called her name, screamed it until my voice was hoarse and made uneven scratching sounds when I tried to speak. I couldnt hear Jasper anymore, I couldnt see the field. It was dark here, under the trees. The underbrush was thick gnarled creepers grabbed at my jeans. I called again and again until the sky grew dark, and the woods grew darker, and I could not see the leaves in the trees. I probably should not have left Jasper. I hugged myself tighter, rubbing my hands up and down my arms in an attempt to get warm. I assumed it was October, or at least late September. Some leaves had changed their colors, others still hung green on their branches. But I couldnt see their color now it was full on dark. I could barely see my feet in front of me. I had stopped walking more out of a necessity for safety than for anything else. I was curled into myself, sitting down, by a small winding stream. My back was pressed against a giant of a tree. It was so cold. I felt the muscles in my legs begin to shiver. I yanked the hood down further over my face, trying to keep my ears warm. I wondered where Jasper was if he was still searching for me, if hed gone home. My lip trembled, the air wheezing in and out of my lungs made whistling sounds as it blew past my chapped lips. I wished I at least had a tee shirt on something, anything on beneath this hoodie that was too small. The lower half of my back was completely exposed. Bella? I didnt have the strength to yell anymore.

The sound of my voice was unsettling in this still forest. The wind rustled in the trees, the stream made water-rushing sounds over rocks, but other than that, it was oddly silent. I shivered again. Distantly, I heard a noise. I wouldnt have been able to were it not for the quietness. The wind moved the branches, I strained to hear over the sound. I heard it again. It was higher pitched, faint. Hello? I called, trying to stand up. My legs were frozen. Blood rushed into my feet and made unpleasant tingling sensations. Hello? I called again, stumbling through the darkness. I was frightened. I wished I hadnt moved having the tree against my back made me feel safer, more secure. But there was nothing to protect me out here. Something could sneak up on me and I wouldnt know it. Hello! I tried yelling but my voice was so hoarse that I ended up in a violent coughing fit. My stomach growled I was so hungry. I had, suddenly, the distinct and unsettling feeling of being watched. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears, could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. The flesh over my heart seemed to crawl seemed to tell me to cover all of the soft, fleshy parts of my body and curl into a protective ball. I glanced over my shoulder and saw nothing. I looked ahead and could barely see the canopy filtered out nearly all moonlight. An agent could be out here. My heart stuttered at the thought of seeing one of their masked faces appearing in the darkness. My heart rate increased. I began to sweat. I heard the sound again, this time it was clearer. Edward? I stopped walking. Hello? Edward? I moved toward the sound it was high and feminine and I knew that sound. I stumbled forward, arms outstretched, ready to brace me if I fell or walked into a tree. Edward! I moved more quickly. Bella? Yes! Where are you? I yelled, frantic. Over here Follow my voice. I cant see. Neither can I. How Whereve you been? Bella? Where are you? Edward?

I didnt see her I felt her. We stumbled into each other. I ran into her so hard she nearly fell over. I grasped her arms, pulled her tight into my chest in one smooth, endless motion. She seemed to resist at first, then relaxed into the embrace. I breathed in her scent. Warm, soft, lovely. I could feel her breasts against my chest, her heartbeat opposite of mine. I couldnt place my feelings relief, longing, need. I hadnt lied to Jasper I needed her. How else would I find my way home? She was freezing. Her skin was ice cold, I could feel the goose bumps on her arms and back. She was shirtless. Bella, I breathed her name against her hair. I felt her winding her thin arms around my back, her face pressed into my shoulder. Youre so warm, she marveled. I felt her body shiver. Wait I pushed her back, reaching for the zipper of her hoodie. Is that my? Yeah. I tried to mask the trembling in my voice as I drew off the sweatshirt and handed it to her. But youll be cold, she resisted. Are you kidding? So what, Im supposed to take your hoodie while you freeze to death without a shirt? I scoffed. I cant believe I know I thought Id never Me neither. I heard the rustling of her clothes as she shrugged into the sweatshirt. Its warm, she said quietly. Thank you. Now what? I asked. Im starving. We should get out of here. I felt like she was looking around, but I couldnt be certain. How did you? I wanted to know everything how she escaped, where she went, how long shed been in here. I wondered if that had actually been here at the edge of the woods. I wondered how shed known that Id committed suicide. I felt her hand reach down and wind her fingers in mine. Later, she promised.

Chapter 12. Four Of Hearts It was awkward. We fumbled around in the dark, we used our hands as substitutes for eyes. I felt her hair and skin and the silky material of her bra and the hard underwire that pressed too hard into her ribs. I felt the

edge of her jeans and where they slung low on her narrow hips. I felt the sticky tack of her hand where her blood had dried and her hand finally had the chance to heal. All of that feeling resulted in me leaning against a large tree with Bella sitting awkwardly between my spread legs. There was much scooting and scuffling and my back got scratched a few times against the rough bark of the tree but finally we got it right. We had no choice. I reminded myself of this over and over again. It was freezing. It was below freezing. Wed contract hypothermia without each other. We had to sit this close. This was necessity, not want. I tightened my arms around her chest. Bella? I whispered, my teeth were beginning to chatter, my voice wavered in the cold. Yes, Edward? I shifted my hips forward, curled my body over hers protectively. She felt warm between my thighs. I rested my chin on her shoulder and tried to see in the impossible darkness. I blinked furiously, as if by blinking I could widen my pupils and catch the inky outline of the forest in front of us. Out here, in the cold, in the dark I felt both very afraid and very uncertain. Tell me something. Your heart is pounding, she whispered, more to herself than to me. So is yours, I muttered back, feeling the throb and hum of her heartbeat in the forearm I had crushed across her chest. It was quiet for a few more minutes, I felt Bellas breathing evening out, felt her body going slack in my arms. Bella? I didnt want her to fall asleep and leave me here, alone, again. Hm? Tell me something else. Something about the end. The end? Yes. How will all this end? I could feel my heartbeat against the flat blade of her shoulder. I could taste it in my mouth. Everything will be okay in the end, She said decisively. If its not okay, then its not the end. Her cheek pressed into my collarbone, her breath was hot against my skin and after a nuzzling sort of rub into my chest, a deep breath of contentment, and a sigh that was somewhere between happiness and uncertainty Bella fell asleep. But I could not follow her. I did not know how Id gotten here. I could say that about a lot of things why I was in this strange new state, in this strange forest, with this not-so-strange girl. But I wasnt talking about my tendency to skip around the cosmos. I was talking about what was happening right now. Bella was between my legs, her back resting on my chest. I was still propped up against a tree. In the dull light of dawn, my embarrassment became known. There was a sleeping girl nestled between my spread thighs and curled against my chest. Her fingers were twisted in mine, her arms wound around her knees.

Wed slept like this the entire night. I barely knew her. The bare skin of my back was in agony, but I dared not move. I could feel where the rough bark of the tree was pressing into my skin, making indents. It was still freezing. I felt like I could take a bite out of the air and hear it crunch like when biting into an apple. I looked down at the girl sleeping on my shoulder. I cant I dont even fuck I dont even know this girl. I guess I did at some point but I didnt know her now. Not really. Not in the way youd have to know someone to I swallowed the dryness in my mouth, tried to quell the unfamiliar feelings in the pit of my stomach. This need for her, this desperate desire to be with her, no matter the cost was this love? No. It couldnt be. Love was an at-first-sight kind of deal. I didnt even like Bella when Id first met her. Shed been hanging out in one of my bedrooms in the one in Arizona. Shed sat there and watched as I hurled all over the floor and those beautiful mahogany Queen Anne legs. She made fun of me, she teased me, she made me feel like an absolute idiot. I had a very strong memory of the feeling of her hands on my arm as she wrote her name in neat cursive letters beneath Find the girl in the red hoodie. Shell help you. I remembered the way my insides had felt suddenly warm and light and fluttered as if there were a thousand winged insects trying to climb free. I looked down at my arm. The letters were there but they were faint. The ink was fading away. I looked over at my wrist, to where I knew the word Forks was written. There was still a slash through the letters, but they were so faint they seemed to blur with the blueviolet veins of my arm. I wondered if it had hurt to slit my wrists. Bella was rousing, her head pressed into my shoulder and then lifted. I heard her back crack as she sat arched into me. She looked around groggy then turned and saw me. Oh. Her eyes widened, her fingers flexed in mine. We stared at each other for a few seconds, mouths slightly agape, wondering what to do now. She scooted away from me. The air hit the skin where shed been laying like a smack in the face it seemed deathly cold. I crossed my arms and huddled against myself. Did we? She asked slowly, clearly uncertain. Sleep upright against a tree next to each other? Yeah. Oh. She looked down, scratched idly at her elbow. Her cheeks were flushing red she was Are you blushing? I blurted out. No, She answered, too quickly. Oh. Everything seemed so awkward in the morning light. I could see her now she could see me. That terrible darkness that had made us so scared had also brought us together without embarrassment. My

overwhelming joy at finding her last night had been transfigured into utmost humiliation. There was something to be said about having the lights turned off. I cleared my throat. My stomach agreed and growled loudly. Hungry? She didnt meet my eyes, but her lip turned up at me. Famished. Suicide will do that to you. I snorted. She looked somber for a moment. We should work on getting you home. I stood up, stretching out the kinks in my bones and brushed off the back of my jeans. I gingerly touched my back, and felt the indent of the tree-bark ingrained into my skin. I winced. Havent we been doing that? Working on getting me home? I asked. Yes but this time no distractions. I didnt know what she meant by distractions. She began walking into the forest. Wherere you going? I called after her. Were going to get breakfast. And a motel room. Her tone was set, determined. She sounded like she had a plan and had made her mind up to follow it. With a mirror, she continued, and well have to find you a gun. Theres really something to be said about deprivation. Stay awake long enough, and even the hardest bench will begin to look like a Tulip & Block doubleended bed with Egyptian cotton bedding. Go without water long enough, and even the most putrid of potable water will taste like Perrier. Well, the same applies to food. In any other circumstance, Id be ranting about chemicals preservatives in food, about trans-fats and mono and triglycerides and L-cysteine that is sourced from human hair and duck feathers. In any other circumstance, Id be worried about the beef tallow that McDonalds uses in their French fries. In any other circumstance, I wouldnt find these fries to be half as delicious as I think they are now. I didnt like the smell in here, or the way the employees swabbed the floor with antiseptic cleaning solution and stared over at Bella and I with sunken eyes. I shifted my weight toward Bella. I didnt want to know why a fast food restaurant would be open at god-knows when in the morning. We were the only ones here. Bella, I whispered. Bella, lets go. We can eat and walk. She looked over her shoulder at the man wiping the floor. Okay. The mans eyes followed us as we left. Do you have any idea where we are? I asked. The town was small: there was a single lane street and a post office, a flower shop, a small grocery store, and the vintage golden arches of a McDonalds that had probably been built in the fifties. I sipped my Sprite and looked down the road. There wasnt a car in sight.

Were in Tennessee, she said. Where in Tennessee? She pointed to above the Post Office. Tellico Plains Post Office Oh. I looked up and down the street again. Motel? I asked. Probably this way. She nodded her head to the right. I followed after her, my straw clenched between my teeth and practically chewed flat. Well, we might not have a difficult time finding a gun here, she mused. Why not? Edward, were in a town that has a population of about 850 people. This isnt like New York. People like to arm themselves out here. I looked around at the woods, could imagine the terrors lurking there. I didnt mean bears. We walked in silence for what seemed like a mile. Bella? Hm? How did you How did you know I had died? I found you. You found my body? Yes. In the warehouse. Oh. I didnt want to imagine the scene shed witnessed my body penetrated by shards of glass and pieces of electrical car equipment, the seatbelt cutting off my air supply. I wondered what she felt when she saw me. And was that you? At the edge of the woods? I saw from my peripheral vision as her eyebrows furrowed, as her gaze grew dark. When? That big field, you were there at the edge of it. Almost in the woods. I was running toward you and then you disappeared. I wasnt there, Edward. Yes you were. I saw you. That wasnt me. I wasnt there. She was lying. She had to have been there. I recalled my hostile desperation my inability to see or do anything except be with her. Then what? I drew off, confused. Had I hallucinated? She was looking at me strangely, obviously concerned. Her dark eyes looked from eye to eye, then down to my mouth. Lets keep walking, she said. There was no room for argument.

We had walked for a solid hour my feet hurt, I could feel the sun beating down on my bare back and wondered briefly about sunburn. There it is. Bellas voice startled me. In the distance was a tiny clearing to the right of the road. A small outcropping of little cinder-block houses, connected together, with one house standing alone. As we got closer, the decrepit sign came into focus. It read: Green Cove Motel. A string of mostly broken light-bulbs framed the letters in a rectangle. We stopped walking and stared. Well, itll do. Its not like well be here long anyway, Bella said, walking toward the office building. It was small and cramped. There was a bar-like counter and an elderly woman sitting behind it. She pushed her half-moon glasses up her nose. May I help you? There was a distinct accent to her syllables. Her voice was sweet and warm and I had a strong desire to lay down and sleep while she told me a story. I smiled at her. Were looking for a room, please. Bellas voice was clear and even. Okay, the woman said slowly. She picked up a dusty binder and began flipping through it. In the little plastic sleeves of the book were keys. One bed or two? I thought I saw her eyes glance down at Bellas ring finger. One please. I glanced sharply down at Bella, just as surprised as the woman. The old woman swallowed and glanced at me over her glasses, most likely wondering about where my shirt had disappeared to, then went back to flipping through the book. Well, I have one more open. Room 715. I glanced out into the parking lot. There was one car that I assumed belonged to this elderly woman. Well take it. Thanks. Its ten dollars a night and you can have it for a week if youd like. Just two nights, please. Okay then, thats twenty dollars. Would you like to pay now? Bella dug around in the back-pocket of her jeans and pulled out a wrinkled twenty. As the woman slowly unlocked the register, I saw a car drive past the motel. Maam, is there a firearms supplier around here? I watched the woman for signs of suspicion, but there were none. Oh Id have to say that the closest would be Stelths Gun Shop just down the road. Its maybe five miles or so down this main highway. She handwrote a receipt and handed it to Bella. Thanks. The bell on the door tinkled as we walked outside. We can make it there and back if we start walking now, Bella said, already moving toward the highway. Wait were going to get a gun tonight?

Yes. Tonight. I have no idea how long we have until an agent finds us again. We have to do this quick. Then why use a gun? We could I could slit my wrists again. I could jump from a tree or play in traffic. Bella stuck her thumb out as we reached the road, thumbing as she walked. Have you ever tried to play in traffic while looking in a mirror to see the exact moment of death? I stuck my thumb out too. No, I said, reluctant. Exactly. And if you slit your wrist or OD youll be asleep long before you die. A gun is a sure-fire way to do this. You can sit in the bathroom and look in the mirror and youll see the whole thing How pleasant And then before you know it youll be back in Forks. Like nothing ever happened. But what about all the time thats elapsed? She stopped, scratched her chin. Youll be a miracle. What? A miracle. Plus, time compresses differently when youre in other realms. You might only be dead in Forks for a few seconds by the time you get back. You might wake up on the floor of your bedroom for all we know. I walked after her, trying to keep up with her pace. So I could just wake up there, back home? What about Jasper watching me shoot myself? What about my brain getting splattered all over the wall? She shrugged. It might turn out that the gun wasnt loaded, or that it just grazed your head but didnt kill you. By the time you get back, you might find that youve been sitting in a hospital bed with a minor head wound and bad case of amnesia. It couldnt be that simple. There was no way. Bella will you come back with me? Will that be you in Forks? I watched as she reached behind her, picked up the sides of her hood, and drew it over her head. She didnt answer.

Chapter 13. Ten Of Hearts Whats the cheapest gun youve got? Despite Bellas tone, the man didnt look fazed. There was something to be said about backwater towns and their love of the second amendment. This one here is a Phoenix Arms HP22A Rangemaster. Semi-automatic, alloy frame, 10 round capacity How much? Regular price is $151.99, but were runnin these on sale

The man talked excruciatingly slow. So how much with the sale price? He peered down at the pistol as if he was just now seeing it. $120.89. Bella stared at him, incredulous. It seemed like he had just made up that number. Okay. Well take it. Not so fast. Ive got to see some ID and then a federal Bella slammed her wallet down on the counter and began rooting through it. She pulled out an ID and some other card I didnt recognize. Firearms License? She offered it to him. The man shut his open mouth and took her license. He looked between the license and Bella a few times, then picked up her photo ID. Yeah, yeah this works. I felt more than a little bit inferior this girl was intense. She had a firearms license? I dont know why that surprised me as much as it did. She could hotwire cars, she could travel through parallel universes so what was a little firearms license? I crossed my arms over my bare chest and wished, for what seemed like the thousandth time, that I had a shirt. Even so, the townspeople didnt seem to care, let alone notice that I was wandering around halfdressed. In fact, the man wed passed walking here who wore overalls and nothing else seemed to nod at me in approval. I stared out the window as Bella paid and rejected the offer of a bag for her newly purchased handgun. Are you planning on walking around with a gun in your hand? I asked as she refused, again, the bag offered. She gave me a sharp glance from the corner of her eye, paid via credit card, and then stuff the gun down the back of her pants. You kids planning on going down to the shootin range or? The cashier looked apprehensive. No, this is just a matter of precaution. Bella patted her backside and signed off on the receipt. Oh. Oh okay. Well you be safe, yhear? But we were mostly out the door. Bella Weve got a lot to do, Edward. I hope youre ready. Bella wait. I grabbed her shoulder. Why did you not answer me before? About what? She seemed distracted. About whether or not youd be there. In Forks. She set off at a fast pace down the road. I kept pace with her easily. Edward, she sighed. Look, Im not going to be able to follow you there. Why not? Because because things between us are too messy and

Too messy? What? What are you talking about? Im talking about us. The us that you so conveniently dont remember. I hadnt thought much more about the fact that Bella and I had, at one point, known each other. Wed known each other further back than I could even comprehend. I wondered how deep the rabbit hole went. It doesnt help that you wont tell me, I muttered. She stopped walking abruptly. Tellyou? Tell you? Her eyes were shut, I could see the delicate violet veins in the corner of her eyes. I dont get it. I dont understand whats so messy about who we used to be. I stared up at the sky, at the big blue nothing. Trees with leaves in a thousand colors shifted and blew and dead, brown ones made sounds like crinkled paper as I stepped towards her. I know you dont understand. Thats part of the problem. From a few feet away, Bellas voice could be the hushed, resounding whisper of a blackbirds wings. From a few feet away, Bella almost made sense. Im not killing myself until you tell me. Her eyes flashed open. No. Thats not fair. Why not? I crossed my arms over my chest. Because Ive worked my ass off to keep you safe, to herd you back to Forks so you can be with Jasper and Emmett and Alice. And I will not have you fuck it up. Her tiny index finger jabbed into my chest with more force than I thought her to be capable of. I uncrossed my arms, looked down at her finger with its chipped pink polish. It reminded me of that memory of running through a warm forest with Bella and picking wild berries. Looking at her fingernails and their girlish polish ignited an odd feeling of nostalgia. All of a sudden, I felt very, very warm. I just want you near me, I whispered. Her finger turned into an entire palm splayed out on my chest, over my heart. I looked up at her. Dont ever say that again, she murmured. But its true. Her eyes closed. Please, tell me about before. About us. Her eyes opened again, she looked up and studied the sky and the clouds above us. Only if you promise to forget again. Room 715 was smaller than I envisioned. It was truly a one-bed room. One large, ugly bed-frame was stacked with an equally large, ugly mattress and a large, ugly bed-set. The floor was maroon carpeting that had seen the stains of one-night stands and drunken backwoods parties. The faux-wood paneling was chipped in some places and melting in others like where it lay pressed against the radiator, which wheezed under multiple layers of white paint, like all radiators seem to have. Romantic, I commented dryly, holding the door open for Bella. She sniffed.

Smells like semen. I inhaled too, despite having been warned of a less-than-pleasant aroma in the air. Ew. Yeah. She walked into the bathroom and flicked on the light. Hows the mirror? I asked, locking the door behind us. Decent. The lighting sucks. I sat down on the bed. Bella. I said her name just to taste it. She flicked off the light and sat next to me. Please, lets talk. For serious, I urged. I didnt want to look at her. It was easier to talk to her without looking. I felt her scratch her elbow, felt her rub her forehead. It was quiet in the room and I watched our silhouetted fish-eye reflections in the ancient television set. For a while, I didnt think she was going to answer, and then wed go back to that familiar, colloquial way of speaking as if we were best friends or roommates or business partners but certainly not lovers. I dont know how to fill the space that you left empty. Were the words she finally settled on. I didnt know Id left a space empty to begin with. I know, I know. Her head was in her hands. Why did you say were too messy? Too messy for me. Not for you. You dont even remember it and thats not your fault. But I want to remember. Edward. The tone of her voice had changed. I looked at her, but she was staring straight ahead, not blinking. What do you think of me? Her dark hair hung over her shoulders and kept her cheeks from my vision. Before I could stop myself, before I could think twice about performing the action I had reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. Her eyes closed. I think I thought of Bella the way people think about air you dont wonder about it or care about it until its gone: and thats when you realize you cant live without it. The realization was startling. I would drown without her. I think that youve been looking out for me ever since we first committed suicide. I think that says more about who you are than anything you could say to me now. I felt the springs of the mattress beneath me, became acutely aware that silence has a sound. I think that we were normal at one point. But that was so long ago that we cant even remember what it felt like. I spoke the words and they made me wonder about time and emotion and how minutes could erode one way of thinking or feeling into another completely different one. How a few days ago, a person I couldnt stand could become a person I couldnt exist without. How maybe I didnt want this bond, this love, whatever it was, but I couldnt escape it now. She looked over at me.

I made a promise to myself long ago that I wouldnt do this again. So break it, I said. I cant go back with you. Why not? Could you feel your heart break? Ill have to work to keep the agents from following you, Ill have to explain how youre back home and how youve forgotten everything about the MWI or alternate universes. Ill spend the rest of my life trying to keep you safe. I felt the winding grasp of panic. I felt my throat become tight, air wheezing in my lungs. But if youre not with me If you dont I wont be able to You managed without me once. She tried to smile at me but I couldnt see it. Ill just kill myself again. Ill Ill find you again. Edward, no. Youre being ridiculous. Im not going to be without you. Edward, she sighed. I cant just forget all of this. I wont just forget you again. How am I supposed to keep going? Do you expect me to grow up, find someone to love, get married? Thats exactly what I expect, she said quietly. Its not going to happen. Im not leaving you. I wont pull that trigger. Youll do it for me, wont you? She turned toward me completely now, so that I could see the planes of her face and her dark eyes and the small width of her shoulders. I want you to tell me, about before, about us. Please. She crawled up onto the bed and laid down on it, her head facing the wrong end and her feet pushing against the headboard, beneath the pillows. I saw her eyes shut and her toes stretch out and then curl back in and her tiny arms tuck tight into her chest. I let go of the idea of you a long time ago, she said. I dont know where to start how to even begin to tell our story and whether or not I want you to remember it. I stretched out beside her on my back, stared up at the water-stained ceiling. I just want to hear you, I said. She breathed and with her breath her ribcage expanded and closed the distance between us until her back pressed against my arm. I inhaled at the warmth and closed my eyes and tried to forget the smell of semen and dust and mold and tried to remember the smell of a dewy forest at daybreak. Our suicide pact, that first story I told you it was only a partial truth. Her story about our failure to get accepted to Dartmouth, her story about our friendship, I remembered how it didnt seem right to me. We did want to go to Dartmouth, and we really didnt get in. But it wasnt because we were rejected. It was because we never got a chance to apply in the first place. I tried to imagine what the town looked like, what Bella looked like then, what I looked like too. I wondered if I had been more muscular then, if Bella found me attractive. We werent just friends. And that statement made my eyes jump open, made the water-stained ceiling appear like a Rorschach test. I saw a vagina written in the ceiling.

What were we then? I asked with a hoarse, dry voice. We were lovers. People would have called us boyfriend and girlfriend. The old folks would say that we were going steady. But those were all poor synonyms for what it was like. And, I rasped, what was it like? An addiction. We were horrible, jealous lovers. Our parents wanted us to stay apart. They were furious at the idea of us even going to the same college. Whyd you tell me otherwise? Whyd you tell me we were just friends? I felt her back press against my arm as she inhaled again, deeply. Because it was easier to deny it to myself. It was easier to lie than tell the truth because how would I explain it to you? You hardly knew yourself, how would you react to something like that? I wouldnt have believed it, I answered truthfully. Exactly. And I couldnt compromise your trust in me. I needed you to trust me. I still do. I do. It grew quiet. I heard the radiator click on the dripping of water through pipes. Continue? I urged. I I heard her breathing heavily. This is difficult to talk about with you, she whispered. I know. But Im a blank slate now. Im not going to judge you, or us, or how we were. You will. She swallowed and cleared her throat. I didnt want to have sex. The air left her body in an urgent sound. I was scared. Wed been dating for so long How long? Three years, since we were fourteen. And I didnt want to. I didnt feel ready for it. But I wanted to, I guessed. Yes, she said quietly. So when I refused, you became angry. You said we needed to take a break. This couldnt be me. I would never do that. I would never be that kind of man. I looked over at Bella. I was devastated. The next day I saw you hanging out with a girl from school who was known for her reputation. Her small shoulders, her tiny arms and tiny hips and tiny beating heart. I would never have been that person. I couldnt stand the jealousy. So I took you back, and told you wed have sex right then and there, right in the janitors closet if only you wouldnt leave. Id never force her to do that. This wasnt me. This story was not about me. You were so happy. You said wed wait till we got home. So we did. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to wrap my arms around her and tell her that I didnt do that. That the man who did was horrible and had killed himself like he should have. It wasnt bad. Actually, I enjoyed it. Her voice was thick with shame. So we had sex a lot. And gave ourselves a reputation that made my mother ban me from seeing you ever again. But of course we didnt. We saw each other more often in spite of her rule. Youd sneak into my window at night, Id steal you away in the closets at school. Wed skip lunch and move into the woods. Her shoulders hunched over her chest protectively, her legs curled up.

I got pregnant. My heart hung suspended in my chest for a few seconds and then seemed to plummet to my feet. Often times, three words have a profound impact. I tried my voice, but it didnt work. I was terrified. All of our hopes going to college, moving away from that town, having our own life they were gone. I tried to swallow but couldnt. I told only Alice. I didnt tell you because I didnt know how youd react. If youd be angry, if youd leave. I didnt have any sisters, or any close friends. So I had to tell your sister and hope that shed be willing to keep a secret. Her legs drew up tighter to her chest until she was nearly hugging them. She did. And Ill love Alice forever because she didnt judge me, and instead helped me find out how I fix my mistakes. Something about the way she said fix made my stomach clench into frightened knots. We wanted to go to Planned Parenthood, but we were underage. We needed an adult signature. So we found some place else. I heard her swallow again, this time, the sound got caught in her throat. It was a back-alley, coat-hanger kind of operation. It was botched. I would have bled out but Alice called you. When you found me, I didnt feel human anymore. I was miscarrying, obviously, but the doctors couldnt give me a real abortion. At least, not the way normal abortions go. Her hand snaked under her shirt, across her belly. Her belly button was a tiny crescent with a curving scar beneath it. We only make sense when were together. That scar on her stomach. The long thin one beneath her navel that was cut in a perfect arc. Id seen it in the car in Arizona. Id realized then that I knew what Bellas skin felt like, that I knew how the nape of her neck smelled while she slept and how her lips tasted. And I understood now that I knew those things because at one time wed been lovers, wed been closer in the past than we would be in the future. I needed to touch her. I turned on my side and pressed the entire length of me into her back and curled around her. I felt the map of her bones beneath her skin and knew them Really knew them, as if they were my own, as if I had studied them very hard at one point in time and now could understand them as if the knowledge was instinctive. I put my hand over hers, over the hand that was over her scar and over the scar that was over the place that had once held something one half of me that I had not remembered. I wanted to know more. I wanted to know if the pain had subsided or if she still felt it, if she ever regretted her decision and if she thought I had changed at all. Our parents found out, of course. It was a small town. We were worse than dead at that point. I tightened my arms around her, made a silent promise to not let go, to not forget again. Do you regret it? I asked, because I had to. Not having a baby was the best decision I ever made. The second best decision was killing myself. Was it still a suicide pact? I asked. Edward, it was still your idea. Her words hung in the air.

Will you ever forgive me? I whispered. The you from Twilight is not the you from now. Not even close. Does that mean Is that a good thing? Are you asking whether or not I still love you as I did then? I stuck my nose in her hair at the nape of her neck and breathed in. Yes. No, she whispered. There was a steady hollowing out of my chest with that one tiny syllable. Its worse. I sat there waiting, not breathing, willing her to elaborate. I cant keep staring at your mouth, wondering how it tastes. If its different, if its better if Ill still taste cigarettes on your breath or cheap champagne on your tongue. I cant keep wondering if youll remember enough to ache like I do when I see your face. I spoke without thinking, with only feeling. I ache without remembering. She pressed back against me and that said more than all the words she could ever speak. I felt the lines between us begin to blur and the blurring felt natural, felt good, like crawling into your old skin that you havent worn in a while. I wondered if she would take on my attributes like I would take on hers, qualities that we could not perceive because we would be exposed to them daily, accept them readily as fact. I wondered if people would recognize us in each other. If we would approach this as simple consistency. And behind a hundred burning questions that brewed in my brain I wondered where we would go from here.

Chapter 14. Ace Of Clubs Breathe in. Breathe out. I could feel her bones moving beneath her skin and her skin moving over her muscles. I could feel her heart moving, and her pulse moving, and for a moment I thought I could feel the world moving too both of us on this double bed moving, together. Breathe in. Breathe out. I didnt know how it had gotten so serious so fast, how one night I could sleep with self-reassurances like this is just to keep warm to now where I was grasping onto this girl with every ounce of strength. I was positive in that moment that no man had ever loved a woman with the desperate force that I loved Bella. Was this even love? It felt worse, more deadly, like a mania, like an addiction. I couldnt fathom existing without her, without the idea of her. I untangled our limbs and moved up away from her, a sudden intention in mind. I pulled open the bedside drawer found a Bible that had probably never been opened, found a water-stained notepad with a peeling gum spine, a ball-point pen rolled. I grabbed the pen and turned back to Bella. She hadnt moved. Bella. She rolled toward me, her expression blank. I swallowed the dryness of my throat and the ignored the itching of my nose and the pricking feeling behind my eyes. She looked ragged, she looked bare.

I crawled toward her on my knees, the pen held out in front of me gripped between my whiteknuckled fist. I was breathing very heavy and I wasnt certain why. I couldnt control my heart-rate, the pulse that I could feel behind my eardrums. Bella I want you to write it down. Us. Our story. On me. I dragged a knee closer to her. I inched forward. Her eyes lingered on the pen. Please, I whispered. I couldnt forget her again. I wanted her name tattooed on my heart. She took the pen, our fingers touching. Okay. I laid down on my back and closed my eyes, listening to her breathing and her clothes rustling as she moved up and over me. I felt the bed-springs slip and twist and felt the warmth of her hands hovering over my skin. I heard the pen squeak as she twisted it open. Where should I start? she asked. I opened my eyes and stared at the water-stain on the ceiling, the vague sexual shape. Start at the beginning. I want to know everything. The pen was sharp. It hadnt been used and the ink had dried in the well and around the ball and it took a few tries a few attempts with the nib etching into my skin but it finally worked, and while she was digging in, pressing in to get the ink to flow I enjoyed the pain. She scratched and marked into my skin starting at the place between my hipbones and slowly traveling up, writing upside down so that I could read it. I glanced down a few times, to see her scrolling letters across my stomach, to see her hands spreading the skin out taut and cutting her letters into me. How could I lose her again? The pen felt more like a knife than ink. My muscles constricted under her touch. I closed my eyes again, and listened to her breathing. By the time she had sculpted letters over my hipbones and around my navel I was panting. Panicking would be a better word. My eyes slammed open and I stared over at my forearm: First things first, stay calm. It was so faint, it seemed like Id written that so long ago. I would never see her again. After today, after this moment shed be gone from my life for good. She would be gone and I would leave too and I would never know her again. Id never know her smile or her laugh or what the inside of her heart looked like: was it filled with butterflies and flying insects? Did she believe in fairytales or love at first sight? Did she imagine herself as the queen of my heart or dream in kaleidoscope color? There was so little I knew about her, so little I remembered. Edward? I tilted my head up off the bed to stare down at her. Why are you breathing so hard? I stared at the ragged edges of her hoodie, at the cuffs that were grey along the edges from dirt and time and too much love. Im panicking. She looked down across the expanse of memories spelled out on my skin.

Me too, she whispered. Help. Bella. Im panicking. Never had death seemed so imminent. Never had the road ahead seemed so dark. She centered a palm over my heart and seemed to think for a long time. I want you to write your story. On me. So I wont forget. You didnt forget, you wont forget The Bell State She shut her eyes, please. I lifted up and reached for her, trying to find my breath, trying to find my voice and the part of me that wanted to go home. But all of those things were missing. I did not want to leave. This dim room, this dirty bed Id stay here forever. My arm circled around her and her hand wedged between us, pulled down on the zipper of her hoodie until there was nothing but bare skin between us. I kissed her forehead, smoothed back her hair that needed to be washed but was beautiful and perfect anyway. I closed my eyes and remembered kissing her, remembered loving her so desperately that I needed her the way I needed food, water, air. I couldnt breathe with her gone. I dug my fingers into her back, beneath the blades of her shoulders. Let me tell you how this feels, I murmured into her dark hair. Let me write you a love letter. I lowered her to the bed and slid the pen from her fingers. I scribbled it on my jeans to get the ink flowing again. Where will you start? she asked. I flipped over my arm and saw what I had written there: Find the girl in the red hoodie. She will help you. Bellas name was beneath it, a loopy heart beside it. Ill tell you how it felt to remember you again. Her head lowered to the bed and she stared up at the ceiling, at the same water-mark I had stared at. What do you see in it? I asked, tugging her jeans down further on her hips. A heart, she answered. A heart? I looked up. I couldnt see the vagina I had seen before. With Bellas simple suggestion, all I could see was a heart. I smiled. What did you see? she asked. I looked over my shoulder at her, trying to let my smile nullify my panic. Same thing as you, I replied. She did not smile, or attempt to conceal her distress. I turned back around, stared down at her hips, and began to write the first and last love-letter Id ever give her. 1.) There were times before I remembered you, before I knew anything about these different lives, and I would begin to cry. I would get so sad about nothing at all. And it makes me wonder: were you sad at the same times? Was that you I was feeling? Ive felt your heart beating in my chest and breathed your air in my lungs and cried tears that werent mine at all. 2.) I didnt believe in love. Then you found me, and I remembered. 3.) I dont know where Im going. But I know that I want you to be there next to me wherever I end up.

4.)When Im with you I dont care about furniture that doesnt match or wall colors that dont fit. I dont care about being hungry or dirty or tired. Im bad for you but Ill try to be better. Dont depend on me to follow through on anything. But Id go through Hell for you. (I havent been this scared in a really long time). I had limited space. I wrote tiny. I used her freckles as punctuation, leaned my letters to curve around her hips and over the tiny crescent of her bellybutton. I saved the space around her scar, saving it for later. I pushed her hoodie open further, inched my way up her ribcage. I hooked my fingers under the wire of her bra and lifted it up. The swells of her breasts fell out beneath it. She shifted her hips. I knew she wouldnt be able to read it. But I had to write it for me. On the right side, over the curve, I wrote: I love you. And on the left, nearest to her heart: I wont forget. I moved down her stomach again, to the saved real estate on her belly. I wrote atop the scar that dashed across her stomach: This is on account of me loving you And beneath it: Forever. I pressed a kiss there and the motion felt so familiar, so practiced, that I had to sit up quickly and try to calm down. I was sweating and panting and trying hard to think of a reason to go back to Forks. Why I needed it, why Bella and I couldnt just keep run, run, running our whole lives. Id be a fugitive for her. I tried to think of Jasper, of Carlisle and Alice and Emmett and Esme. But I couldnt. I could think of myself outside of them, I was no longer defined by my best friend, my family. I was something else now. I was part of a two-piece system. Id reached that awkward transitory stage where I was outlined not by my family but by a partner. I laid down next to her. Bella, Im scared. I know, she said, me too. She looped her arm around my neck and pulled until I could rest on her chest until my arm wrapped around her body and my head rose and fell with her breath. How did it get like this? So fast? I wondered aloud. Bella didnt answer, her fingers twisted in my greasy hair. We laid there for a while, gasping for breath like fish out of water. I couldnt stand it. I couldnt take it. I lifted up off of her and slid off the bed. She rolled over, looking at me. What are you doing? She asked. I dont know. I dont know. Bella, why cant we just keep running? I dug a hand into my hair. We cant she choked off the words. Why cant you come back with me? I paced. Why are you yelling? Im not yelling. But I was. You know why I why we couldnt

So you have to just suffer to keep me safe? Id rather be with you. Id rather die terrified than live forever without you. How are you like this so quickly? She mumbled. An hour ago you didnt even know our full story. I looked down at the stain on the carpet beneath my feet. I know. It was quiet for a long moment. Maybe I should just do it and get it over with. I ran my hand along the barrel of the pistol that was sitting on the dresser. It gleamed dully. No, came Bellas breathy reply. Not yet. Im not ready yet. But youre the one whos been after me to do this, I countered. I picked up the gun, I moved toward the bathroom mirror. Maybe it would be best to just get it over with. The hardest part would be taking those steps to the bathroom, would be pulling that trigger. I could handle the sadness after that. I could handle walking again if only I could get myself to take the first step. Wait, Edward wait. Im not finished. She climbed off the bed and over to me. She brought her gauntness, ribs and hipbones and skinny arms. She brought with her the pen. I have something else I forgot to say, she breathed. She stood on her toes to reach me. She arched the balls of her feet. My hands moved instinctively to her waist, to balance her, to touch her and breathe her in before I had to let go for good. The pen was pressing in on my collarbone, starting at my right shoulder and moving left. Bella wait I wont be able to read that. Its up too high. She ignored me. Bella I cant see I tried to dip my head down to see it. She pushed my chin up. There. Im finished, she said, winded. I dont want to go just yet, I murmured. Then dont, she whispered back. I let the gun drop out of my hands and onto the floor and moved with her back towards the bed. Can we just lay together? For a little while? I was desperate. This was drawing it out and would ultimately make killing myself that much harder. But I didnt care. I needed this. Edward, wait. Bella pushed herself up away from me. I grabbed after her weakly. I just... I just need some time. Right now. To go and think. Alone. She scrubbed a hand across her face. Ill be back. I promise. What? What? I sat up stiffly. Youre leaving? Now? She averted her eyes. Just for a few minutes. I I promise Ill be back. Wait here for me, okay? I groped after her, grabbing at the empty air in the space where she left. She was already at the door. Bella. Bella no. Bella dont go. I scrambled up off the bed. Edward. Give me time. Her voice was firm. I narrowed my eyes at her, I breathed heavily. She shut the door behind her, and I felt my heart break.

I stared at the digital clock on the nightstand. How could she do this? We had precious few moments left together and she suddenly needed time to think? Didnt she care? I should grab that gun and kill myself before she comes back. It had been thirteen minutes. I counted them. The clock read 1:57 PM. I sat upright. The gun still lay on the floor. The bathroom light was on. I had yet to read what Bella had written on my stomach and chest. I wanted to savor it. I laid back down and rolled over, facing the wall and the horrible oak chair-rail that ran around the perimeter of the room. I sighed. When would she come back? She said soon it had already been a quarter of an hour and I felt the old panic resurfacing. What if something had happened to her? My mouth went dry and my skin started to sweat. What if an agent had found her? Should I go looking for her? I was one second away from rolling over and running out that door trying to find her time alone be damned but then I heard it: Footsteps. Gravel crunching under heavy boots. There hadnt been another soul at this motel all day. Bella wore soft-soled sneakers. I sat up slowly, my heart in my throat and I tasted blood in the back of my mouth. I watched as the door handle clicked and turned and the pulled curtains covering the window fluttered as the door pushed open. I knew it would be an agent even before I saw the gloved hair and the long dark jacket and the bowler hat. I knew it even before I saw the staring gas-mask-goggles and the shapeless nose with slits for nostrils. I noticed something then that I had not noticed before: a wide, gaping mouth. It was a perfect circle, a perfect black hole. Air seemed to get sucked into it. It whistled faintly. It sounded like a dying man struggling to breathe. It moved into the room as if it did not notice me. It didnt speed up or slow down. It moved with my movements. When I froze, it froze. I stared at it, not really comprehending it, not really understanding. It was terrifying, but like anything horrific the more you stare at it, the less scary it becomes. That was before it began to melt. I slid backwards up the bed, toward the headboard. The face followed my movement it seemed directed by it I wondered if it could see beneath that mask or if it had eyes at all. The gloved hand began to pull away from the arm it seemed to drip down, grow longer. I watched as it nearly fell to the floor. It happened in seconds the other arm tugging the hand back into place, the mask not looking away from my direction. What had Bella said? Decoherence. The loss of systemic information to an environment the hand drooped down again, the neck seemed to sag. This would happen to Bella? I flattened myself against the pillows. The agent stopped moving, the mouth sucked air in a torrent. It leaned towards me. It would lean to the side, then straighten. It did this, back and forth, back and forth, the body going slack beneath clothes as it inclined to one side. The mouth dripped a fluid. Air wheezed through it. The movement made me sick. I was paralyzed by fear. I could taste the air in my mouth and my heartbeat on my tongue. I clenched my teeth together and tried very hard not to scream. Edward? No. Bella no. Not now. Dont come back now.

I didnt know what this thing would do to her, to us. Would it feel her moving and turn toward her? Would it notice her before it noticed me? I heard her footsteps on the concrete outside the door, I saw her face appear in the doorway. She froze. Oh Edward. The agent turned, slowly, and moved toward her. No! Bella! I reached after her, stumbling off the bed. The agent turned back to me. Edward Edward do it now. Get the gun! I looked around, found it on the floor. I lurched after it, tripping over the metal bed-frame. Bella I felt something on my face hot tears? The gun felt heavy in my grasp. I felt acid shots of adrenaline like a kick in the stomach. Bella no Bella I cant Edward its your last shot. Edward go to the mirror! Bella, I was crying. I was crying. I couldnt see. I waved my arms in an attempt to distract the agent that was stumbling toward her. She moved into the room, around the agent that had turned and was slouching back towards me. I cornered myself in the bathroom, gun in hand, shuddering too badly to hold it straight. Edward do it. I turned towards the mirror, held the barrel under my chin. I tried to stare at my face, tried to look away from Bella and the agent that was between us. But I couldnt. I couldnt. My hands shook. My eyes kept getting caught on the words in Bellas handwriting that had been written on my chest. Then I saw it The words Bella had carved into my collarbones, the ones I couldnt read. They were written backwards. Shed written them right to left and I could read them in the mirror. I love you. But I dont love you enough to say goodbye. Ill find you again. I promise. I looked up, and saw my frightened eyes and behind them an ounce of hope. I released the safety, pulled back the trigger and my eyes slid to Bellas reflection.

Chapter 15. Jack Of Spades There was something erotic about a gunshot to the head. It encompassed the raw clawing power, the singular explosion of pent up potential energy, the sheer kinesthetic eroticism of hand over steel. I gripped the handle like a lover, her contours fit my palm. My brain would have sprayed in cherry pink pops onto the non-descript wall paint. My jaw would have been shot off chips like shattered ceramic flung into my brain stem. I would have been able to see but not comprehend. My eyes would work but thered be nothing left to process vision. The photoreceptors would fire neurotransmitters into empty air. Id see my whole damned death wrapped up in one millisecond. Id see my pain. But I didnt get to witness it. Instead, Id witnessed Bellas wide eyes staring back at me, Id witnessed a gloved hand fall from the agents body as if it had been dangling by a thread the whole time. I had witnessed him rubbing the limb with something from his coat pocket and saw him slide it back in place.

Instead, Id witnessed Bella witness my death. And nothing good came of it. How many times had she seen me die? How many times had she walked in on my mutilated corpse strung up on a steering wheel or ripped apart by overdosing or purple-black from drowning? Was she immune to seeing my opened wrists or the inside of my skull or the contents of my stomach? Id never be impervious to Bella. If she died If I saw it Id reach for the gun or the pills or the rope shed killed herself with. Id reach for death and hope that I didnt wake up at all. I opened my eyes. There was a beautiful expanse of copper ceiling tiles that had been painted white in that kitschy trend among wealthy families going for that shabby chic style. Tacky, fluorescent glow-in-the-dark stars were taped unevenly over the damask embossed plates. It hadnt worked. I wasnt home. I inhaled. My ribs expanded easily. I stretched out my toes then my fingers then reached up to feel beneath my chin. There was no hole, no evidence that I had ever been shot. I sat up. Where was she? Where was Bella? I scanned the room and hoped that shed be there sitting there on my desk or on my dresser or better yet on my couch and waiting for me. But the room was curiously empty. The walls were painted the same titanium white as the ceiling. The couch I was laying on was white. The walnut floorboards were covered by large white area rugs with a woven Persian pattern. This was not my room. I inhaled again and held it in. From somewhere downstairs, I smelled cigar smoke. I was back at square one. I was not in Forks. I was not with Bella. I was lost, again, in some place that could have been home but was not home and therefore did not hold my interest. I needed Bella. I stood up. A flannel shirt hung on the back of the door. I took it and shrugged it over my bare shoulders. I saw Bellas words on my stomach I fell in love with you knowing wed never work. I paused mid-shrug, the shirt hanging off of one hinged elbow. I stretched the skin on my stomach out and tried to read further. Were unlucky. We are a disaster thats just waiting to happen. Youre the wind and Im the rain and together we make a hurricane. We end up destroying everything. I backed up until my knees hit the couch and fell backwards onto it. My neck was cramping, my stomach muscles grew sore. I never thought youd want me. I was poor and lived with my dad in our little house in the woods and you were wealthy and polished and charming. What could you possibly want in me? We met in biology class. We were more like acquaintances than friends. Then one day Mike Newton grabbed my hand and asked me out in front of you. You grabbed his shirt collar and told him to never touch me again. Thats how you and I became an us. The words were getting smaller, getting harder to read. They were higher up on my stomach, just above my navel. We were obsessive. Others would have called our relationship dangerous, or an addiction. But only we knew it for what it really was: we were two halves of a whole. We were not complete until we found each other and when we did the bond was so intense it was painful to be apart. You would climb in my window at night and sleep beside me until morning. We failed the classes that we didnt take together. We didnt

eat when we were apart. We didnt sleep. We lost weight, we grew bony and gaunt and our parents forbade us to see each other again and this made you angry. So we stole touches in the hallway, we rubbed cheeks and noses and foreheads on the bus going to school. You didnt let me touch or talk to anyone other than you. If I saw you with another girl Id get physically violent. I was suspended numerous times because of it. We rarely kissed our touches werent sexual. So it was a surprise to me when you wanted sex and I didnt know how to translate our habits of pinching elbows and rubbing tummies into something sensual. Part of her writing was rubbed out, it smeared across my stomach. You know how this story ends from here. So Ill tell you a memory that you started to remember in Arizona: There was a meadow by our house you had to wade across a tiny stream with crystal cold water in it to get there. Wild raspberries and blackberries grew there and wed go there to escape our parents. The day we killed ourselves, we went there to that meadow and watched the sunrise. Another smudge and you were so beautiful in the morning light. I wore the raspberries like hats on my fingertips and you ate them off of me one by one and kissed the center of my palm. I remember Charlies gun lying between us and the dew soaking into our clothes. I never thought Id find a love like this. And I knew Id never be able to live without you. Id be dead without ever having pulled a trigger or hung a rope. I dont know why Ive tried fighting it fighting our parents, fighting different times and different dimensions fighting death. Im not going to fight anymore. Im going to come to you and youll come into me and well go back to being how we were how we are one person. One heart. One It was smudged out. I tried desperately to stretch my skin into a different canvas, a different shape to better reveal what letters had been lost to sweat or blood or the dimensions of time and space. There was another dark smudge on my skin up higher I tucked my chin deep into my chest and looked down across my heart. Bella had drawn a heart, a spade, a club, and a diamond. Next to the heart was the number 13. And suddenly the whole idea that all of this was just an accident became ridiculous this could be nothing but divine intervention. This had to be fate. Was it coincidence that the suicide king would be the thirteenth card in the deck? That this unlucky system of suicide just happened upon me? I thought back to Forks, to being in my room and how I just so happened to show Jasper Carlisles gun, that it just so happened to be loaded despite Carlisles carefulness that I just so happened to pull the trigger when I had lost my memories of Bella. Was this all just a coincidence? I looked across the white room and into the white-framed mirror across from the couch and didnt think so. It was at some point on the elevator that I realized I was not in a house. This was a hotel. A really fancy hotel. A hotel with slick modern floors and chic industrial lighting and smooth teak interiors. My room well, the collection of rooms that this universes version of me lived in was different from the rest of the hotel. It was antiqued, it was impeccably designed. Wrought-iron chandeliers grew trinkets from their spires and hung down over the cozy sitting arrangement, sterlingsilver tea-servers were stacked on the Stickley sideboards. The rooms were mostly white, with the occasional variation of ivory or antique lace white to offset the brilliant titanium. There was no one home, but there were pictures on the gas-fireplace mantel of a woman and a man with a shock of red hair. They were both smiling, their hands clasped together. On the tiny glass table by the loveseat, a cigar was burning away in an ashtray. I pushed the lobby button impatiently. Where would I even begin to find her again? I chewed on the inside of my cheek, not even caring about the name of the city I was in. I had learned by now that the time or place was meaningless. I tried to ignore that antiseptic, vapid vacuumed smell of hotels and the click-click of women in high heels on the over-buffed tile floors. I tried to ignore the sound of men in suits at the front desk, talking

in deliberately even-toned voices to grouchy arriving guests and focus instead on finding the street, finding Bella, finding home. I moved past the revolving doors and the doorman to find a bustling city street. Lights glared at me from all angles the sun was beginning to set. I scanned the foot traffic, seeking her face, her smile, a glimpse of a red hoodie. I hugged myself it was cold outside and turned right. There were payphones on the corner, they mocked me with their easy method of communication. A mailbox stood across the street and I scowled, quickly growing hopeless. And how would I get back now? I doubt Id be able to purchase a gun I wasnt in some backwater hick town and I was without a firearms license. I thought about Bella digging, annoyed, through her wallet trying to find the license. I thought of her taking out the wrinkled twenty dollar bill and slamming it down on the counter. I smiled to myself, barely conscious I was doing it, basking in the memory of her the way her hair was knotted and dirty and hung lank past her shoulders, the way shed scratch her elbows when she was nervous or her deep, unfeminine laugh. There was a bridge with light-posts and a footpath with a line of traffic streaming over it. A deep, wide river flowed beneath it. I didnt want to start seeing things again. I didnt want to start imagining Bella when there was no Bella there, not like in the field with Jasper. I walked up the bridge, trying to look for her but not willing to look around, see people because to see people Id be reminded of something about her face and Id for sure hallucinate again. I reached the center of the bridge. I turned and faced out, over the water streaks of multi-colored light lay in rippling lines across the unbroken surface of the river. The chroma split with a series of small wrinkles blown out across the surface a cold wind blew in from the sky and mingled with the heat from the under-carriages of the cars moving past. I huddled against the wind and looked left looked right. I couldnt imagine how shed find me again, here, in this massive, sprawling city. And why did she always have to find me anyway? Why could I find her? Or fuck, at least help to find her. So I did the only thing I knew how to do. I screamed. I screamed her name and bellowed and yelled as loud as I could until my throat grew tired and dry and raw and the gulping of cold autumn air felt like the stabbing of a knife. People stared. A man in a cab tried not to look in my direction. I doubled over, clenching my knees and trying hard to breathe through my now running nose. Mucus was coming up in my throat I thought I tasted blood. I took one breath then two the knife-tearing sensation still there and then I was smacked into. Hard. Hard enough that I fell down onto my knees on the ice-hard concrete. For a split moment I thought I was being mugged. But then I felt breasts and bony ribs and clutching fingers and tried to smell her dried sweat or her greasy hair because I needed this girl like I needed air and began couching up the mucus in my throat. Oh my god youre sick. Youre sick? Are you puking? Her fingers were pushing the hair out of my eyes and I was trying to blink trying to see. Im not sick, I blurt out. I was screaming for you. I heard you. Oh. Edward. I heard you and I came running and I think I tripped some old lady in a walker. She kneeled down next to me and rubbed her fingers into the soft areas under my cheekbones. Youre okay? Youre not hurt?

Im fine, I lied. My knees ached. Good, She paused for a moment, You stupid boy! I blinked. What? You looked at me. In the mirror. You had everything and you looked at me! I had to. I couldnt. It was too sudden. I need more time. I grasped at her elbows. We both breathed in each others faces, trying to catch our breath. I do too, she murmured. Can we? Have more time? I asked. She looked out across the river and the slats of color that moved in the undulations. She was quite for a long time. Yeah, she whispered, We can have more time. The cigar had burnt itself out. There was still no one home. I called out a generic greeting but the rooms were vacant. Lights had been turned on beds had been turned down in one of the rooms and a chocolate had been placed upon it. In my room, on the couch, a blanket had been neatly folded across it, a pillow lay fluffed near the headboard. I had not let go of her hand. I was probably hurting her but I couldnt let go. She was with me and I did not want to lose her again ever. I pulled her into the room. She looked around and whistled. Nice, She commented. Thanks. Edward? I sat on the couch and pulled her toward me. Hm? I leaned my forehead against her belly and breathed in. I I brought this. Her free hand dug around in the back of her pants and pulled out a gun. The same gun from Telico. I stared at it. It seemed so wrong, to be here, in this new place, clean, brand new. I wondered how many bullets it had in it. I looked up at her. I didnt know what to say. I opened and closed my mouth a few times. We can just put it over here. For later, She said, sliding it over to the desk at the foot of the couch. I tore my gaze from it and looked back up at her. Okay was the only word I could manage to say. She nodded. What do we do now? She asked. I was thinking the same question. How to spend a few final moments together? What do you say when everything you speak will be forever remembered as your last words ever spoken? What do you do when you have nothing else left to do but die? And now, more than ever, I understood how important it was to die at the right age.

Can I lay with you? She asked. I toed my shoes off and slid back across the couch. Her hand was still in mine as she climbed up. We sat there for a while, just staring at each other, not speaking. Why is this so damn awkward? She blurted out. I laughed. I dont know, I guess because we want everything to be perfect. I think we fucked up perfect a long time ago, Edward. I think we did too. So I did something that I had wanted to do for a very long time but did not realize consciously until just now. I kissed her. I kissed her. Not on the stomach or on her palm or forehead. Not a kiss like how a mother would kiss a child, or how siblings would kiss, how strangers would peck cheeks. This was a real kiss. A this-could-wake-upSleeping-Beauty kind of kiss. I intended to stop to just press my lips to hers and that would be that. To leave her with a lingering sense of love but to stop before lust ever got its dirty hand caught in the action. I intended to stop and I would have stopped were it not for Bella. Her hands wound into my hair, her lips pushed against mine. She opened my mouth and breathed into me and I could still remember the way she tasted the way her breath felt in my mouth and the way her nose would mash against mine. I dug back pushed back against her pushing and the motion was so strained was so furious that it was less like kissing and more like wrestling. My fingers dug into her neck, they pushed into her hair. She was grabbing against my hip, pulling me toward me. She broke away, gasping then dove back in, pushing against me so hard that the fronts of our teeth clicked together. We were like magnets at a certain distance we repelled each other but get us close enough and we couldnt be pulled apart. I couldnt let go of her this wasnt romantic. Not even close. My leg was cramping and the jeans were cutting off the circulation to my thigh but I didnt care, I barely noticed. I just needed her. I pulled her into me, my hands linking around her waist and pulling her close flush close enough that we had to disconnect our mouths to align other body parts to allow more skin to come into more contact. I craved it. I needed it. I began to sweat and shiver and the part of my brain that liked me to match furniture liked touching Bella a whole lot more. I couldnt get close enough to her. I want more. I needed more. I was desperately seeking another hit another high. She was pushing against me, pushing until I was flat on my back and she was scrambling to stay in contact. Her fingers ripped at the flannel shirt I was wearing, my hands pushed the jeans against her hips. She reached down and flipped the button open, not the zipper, and she was skinny enough that the denim slid down to her knees. I heard the button on my shirt go, then felt cool air blow across my skin as she yanked it open. I squeezed my eyes shut and slid my hands around her waist feeling more with my eyes shut. I felt her zipper being yanked down and then felt her sitting up and away from me. My eyes opened instinctively, my thumbs linked into the fabric of her underwear. But she wasnt leaving she was shrugging out of her hoodie and fumbling behind her back. I unhooked my thumbs and reached up for her.

Come here, I murmured. Let me do that. She looked down at me, breathing heavily. Her hair hung all over her face and she looked confused or like she was seeing me for the first time all over again. Unless You know you want to keep it on, I mumbled, suddenly feeling embarrassed. She stared at me a while longer, and I felt like a completely moron for even offering to take it off god I mean, we were just kind of kissing and laying here and maybe my perception of things had been way, way off and it wasnt like this for her anymore. Maybe while we were kissing I had been all gross and heavy-handed like some creep who never got laid and had to make up for lost time. I wanted to shut my eyes and hide. But her face cracked open in a smile to reveal crooked white teeth and a split lip. She leaned down onto me again, slowly. I distinctly felt her breasts pushing just beneath my pectoral muscles and I reflexively tensed my hips. Would you mind? She whispered, gathering her hair to one side. Take it off? My voice cracked and I winced. She sniggered. Yes, Edward. I was more hesitant to touch her, I laid my hands on her waist and slid them up her back. I had to lean up strain my neck and look over her shoulder to see the frayed black clasp of her worn-out bra. It took a few tries, mostly because my hands were shaking too badly to do any task that required delicate motor skills. But Bella was patient. She hummed and sighed when my fingernails would scratch her skin and after a while I forgot why I had been nervous. I unlatched the garment and smoothed the fabric away from her skin. She was still pressed tight to my chest. I missed you, she whispered. I wrapped my arms around her tiny ribcage and squeezed. I missed you, Bella. Her head was just beneath my chin I could feel her breath on my shoulder and the vibration of her voice against my chest. She sat up slowly. I dont want to be away from you again, She said suddenly. Im sorry it took me so long to figure that out. Im sorry I left, back in Telico, and told you I needed time Why did you I was trying to figure it out how I could leave, how I could stay. I still dont know how itll work. I still dont know if Ill be able to stay, forever, with you in Forks. The decoherence thing and the agents. Theyll come after me theyll find me theyll Bella. Well run together. Well get back to Forks and then well run. Let me say goodbye to them. Let me see my family one last time and Ill tell Carlisle that I have to go. We can do this. We can Edward I dont think Itll work. I know it will. I dont care about anything else. You dont care about food? About clean water and having a home? A place to sleep? Ill be your home. You can sleep on me. What? I dont care. Ill live in a cardboard box. We can live in the woods. She sat up suddenly, her bra straps hanging on her shoulders.

Edward, youre being crazy. Im not. I can I swallowed. I can steal money from Carlisle. I can ask for it from him. Edward Well be in the real world again. Well be expected to work, make a living, buy a home. Well have to eat eventually. Well have to sleep. We cant run forever. I felt myself sink back into the couch. Why not? I asked. She seemed to look down at me for a very long time. She opened her mouth and closed it. I dont know, she said quietly. Why cant we? I felt her hips sink down onto mine. I smiled. Lets do it. Lets run forever. From the agents? From the world. Just us? Just us, I said. She stared at my chest and seemed to be working things out in her head. Stop planning things, I said. Not planning things is what brought me back to you in the first place. I think theres something to be said about flying by the seat of your pants. She smiled. I guess youll have to show me. I smiled too and reached up and slid my hands around her waist. I could nearly reach my fingers around her. She shrugged her shoulders and her bra slid down her arms and off her breasts and onto my stomach. My hips did that tensing thing again and I tried not to stare. Bella. I said her name just to taste it. I bit my bottom lip, I flexed my fingers into her skin. Edward? Her head rolled to one side and her eyes slid shut. I didnt try to resist this time. I let my hips rock up against her. Her eyes flashed open. Youre hard, she said simply, as if commenting on the weather. I kind of stopped breathing then, waiting to see whether she was totally grossed out by this information, or totally turned on. When she closed her eyes again, I had to ask: Is that okay? She smirked with her eyes still closed. Its more than just okay. I sighed and relaxed into the couch again. But Edward. She licked her lips. I have to warn you about decoherence. The loss off Nh systemic information to an environment? Yeah, she sighed. It could kill me.

What? If I get a cut or something I could bleed out. I could die. So if we stay in Forks, if we keep running you could getting a cut could kill you? Yes. I stared up at her. Then Ill protect you, I said resolutely. Youre not allowed to open packages for fear of paper cuts, or handle kitchen knives or do scrapbooking of any kind. I rubbed my thumbs against her hipbones. No scrapbooking? I dont know if I can handle these restrictions. Tough. I said no scrapbooking. Or at least, no scrapbooking without using me to do all the cutting and page turning. You can do the pasting Just shut up, Edward. She kissed me, and I could feel her smile through her kiss and could feel her happiness radiating through her body I could feel it in the lines of her ribs and the quivering of her stomach and thighs. I smiled too, our lips curved against each other and our toes twisting together. I made a silent promise to her then to do anything she asked anything she required. I would dutifully cut her hair or trim her fingernails for fear that she cut herself, I would chop our food or sacrifice my fingers if a particularly dangerous looking package arrived in the mail. My hands held her beneath her breasts and I made a promise to be better to her now and in the future than I had ever been in the past, in a previous life whether I remembered it or not. I felt her fingers wriggling down my chest and over her handwriting and down to the fly of my jeans. She broke the kiss and I opened my eyes to see her lip caught between her teeth. You okay? I asked, a little breathless. Can I? She tugged on the zipper. I shifted my hips. Please, I said. But she didnt just undo the zipper. She flipped the button off and then tugged until the denim slid down around my thighs. My hands fell to the bed. These too? She asked, plucking at the underwear I had put on what seemed like years ago. I flexed my fingers on the blanket and nodded. I dont know why it mattered. She had seen me before shed touched me and wed had sex and she certainly remembered those times and knew what to expect when she pulled them down But I still squirmed. Its weird. I swallowed the dryness in my mouth, to think that this isnt the first you know. It kind of seems that way though, doesnt it? She asked, looking at me curiously. Well I guess in a way it is, in this world. She smiled. Its kind of terrible really having your first time all over again. But even our first time didnt feel like the first time. It felt like wed been together before that. I reached up and toyed with her hair, thinking about what shed said. Do you think thats possible? I asked.

That we were together before Pennsylvania? Yeah. She caught my hand that was playing with her hair and rubbed it. I suppose it is. If it did happen, neither of us remembered it, she said while wriggling out of her jeans. When she was bare, she sat up and licked her palm, from thumb to pinkie finger, and then reached for me. I stared up at her glassily. We were dirty, we were sweaty and lying on a couch in a room that neither of us knew and wondering how many times in how many worlds wed been together just like this. I felt her fingers wrap around me and sighed, relaxing. That feels good, I murmured. I felt her lay down beside me, her hand still on me, her leg linking over my thighs and her body pressed flush against mine. I turned into her, enveloping her in my arms and crushing her body and my handwriting and both of our stories written on our skin together. She moved her hand, and I moved my hips, and without orchestrating it we fell into a rhythm that fell into lovemaking and being two halves of a whole never made sense until the halves were finally put together. And I knew something then as we moved together that made sense above everything else: that being with Bella was like being at home. Our handwriting had been washed away by sweat and also by kissing that had gotten out of hand and led off-course away from lips and instead down towards the skin on chests and breasts and bellies. Wed been laying there for a while. For the first time in a long time I wasnt worried about agents finding us. I wasnt worried about who I was or where I was going or how I would end up. It seemed like things had lined neatly into place and now all that was left was one final event to overcome. I had to do it right this time: I had to kill myself and witness it and collapse the wave functions to get me back to Forks. Once I was there, Bella would find me and we could run away together. I sighed and stared up at the ceiling. Bella and I were tangled our limbs crossed and wound until we were like a knotted ball of string. I scratched her back lazily. I heard what I thought were footsteps in the hall. I inclined my head toward the door without getting up. I heard keys tinkling together and then the lock being pushed open. I nudged Bella. Bella, I whispered. Someones here. Hmm? She rose her head groggily. I listened. There were definite footfalls of a man on the carpet in the landing. I held my breath, waiting to hear the heavy thump of an agents stride or the wheezing of their breathing. Instead, I heard the high clicking sound of a womans shoes. I rose up onto my elbows and stared at the shut door of my room. Bella, I mouthed. She sat up next to me, reaching for her bra. Who is it? she whispered, clasping the bra behind her back. I dont know? Your parents? She grabbed her underwear.

The photo in the living room wasnt of Carlisle or Esme. Unless it was a bad portrait of an aunt or something. No your real parents. Birth parents? I listened again. Could there really be a realm where my birth parents existed and I grew up with them? I thought of their death in the Chicago river, just off Randolph street. I wondered if their death had been suicide if our alternate universes overlapped. We need to get out of here, I said. Bella just nodded, shrugging into her hoodie, already in her jeans, and began handing me my clothes. In the next room I heard arguing. Where will we go to you know She nodded toward the gun. I dont know. I pulled my jeans up my hips and didnt bother with the underwear. Theres a mirror right there. We could just do it and get it over with. No, I said, harsher than I needed to. I dont want them coming in here. They could interrupt us. And even if they didnt I dont want them coming in here and seeing my brains all over their house. I dont even god I dont even know these people. Edward, youre stalling. I am not stalling, I growled. We can find some other fucking reflective surface, okay? I saw her dark eyes go wide. Sorry, I said bitterly. I just no. Im not doing it here. I thought of the portrait on the mantle and their smiling faces. I thought of them walking in here and seeing their sons skull split open by a bullet and a gun theyd never seen before. I thought of them blaming themselves committing suicide tramping around the universe like me trying to find a good home. Come on. I stood up off the couch and began buttoning my shirt. Lets sneak out. Bella stood up silently, her hand reaching for mine. I grabbed it and grabbed the gun in the other and let Bella open my bedroom door. The hallway to the exit was dark and empty and I heard what sounded like wine glasses being placed on a granite counter-top in the other room. The gun tucked into the back of my pants, Bellas hand still in mine, I reached for the door and said goodbye to the birth parents Id never met who would never see me again. Cant I just look at the side of the shiny payphone? No. Bella was, apparently, on the hunt for the perfect mirror substitute. Thats barely reflective, she said. And besides, do you really want to traumatize all of the people walking past you? I sighed. Then where? It was strange to discussing my predestined suicide in such a cavalier attitude. She sighed, frustrated, and threw her hands up in the air.

I dont know! What about the river? I asked, staring out at the multi-colored lines of light that laid out over the surface of the water. She considered it for a moment. Lets go see. I followed her down a concrete path, down a wide set of stairs and past monstrous concrete planters decorated with purple mums that were somehow surviving in the cold. The path ended against the river there was no bank. A jogger ran past us, and then we were alone. There was a ferry-like boat docked a few yards away, and large lamp-posts lined the concrete dock. Bella and I stood there, silent. Is this okay? I asked, peering over the edge of the dock to see my reflection below me. It rippled slightly in the faint breeze. Yeah, she said, leaning over the edge too. Yeah, this look okay. I squeezed her hand and said nothing. So so this is it. Yeah, she said. I guess this is it. But its not over. I mean Ill do this, and then youll find me. In Forks. I could feel myself becoming very, very nervous. I will find you in Forks. I promise. She squeezed my hand back. Okay. I tried to swallow. It had been so easy to die before I had been running away from something. But now there was nothing to run from. I had everything I could ever want right here with me. Itll be easier if you just get it over with. It wont hurt. You wont feel it. Just think youll wake up and youll be with Jasper and Alice and Carlisle and Ill come find you. Youll be with me and your family again. This is the easiest time to die. But I dont want to, I whispered. I dont want to be away from you for one more second. She leaned against me. Lay down, she commanded. I did, with my belly pressed against the cold concrete and my head and neck and shoulders hanging over the edge of the dock. I could see my bone-white reflection in the still water, could see the lines of light like color behind me. I felt Bella pull the gun out from my pants, place it beside me then I felt her lay down on top of me. Her weight was reassuring. It pressed my hipbones uncomfortably into the concrete. Im right here with you. And Ill be there when you wake up, she whispered in my ear. I reached for the gun behind me and brought it out over the river. I felt her smile against my ear. The time has come the walrus said, she whispered. To talk of many things, I responded. Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, she continued. I put the barrel against my temple and pulled back the safety.

Of cabbages and kings I finished, and pulled the trigger.

Chapter 16. Queen Of Hearts I would like to say that in the end, it wasnt up to me. Maybe it hadnt been up to me all along. If it had been up to me, well things would be different. Bella and I would be able to exist outside of hope. Because hope is a terrible thing it makes a mockery of your heart and all of the rooms contained within it. It makes you believe things that can never come true and that you might not even want to but you feel like you should hope for them anyway. In the end, it really wasnt up to me. And maybe it wasnt up to Bella either. Maybe our dreams of running away together and finding a home were too far-fetched. Maybe wed never find that place. Thats why I was still here, with the cold muzzle of a gun pressed against my temple and why even after firing that first and last shot I still didnt feel a thing: no pain, no shattered skull, no pieces of bone skipping across the Chicago river and distorting my reflection. I would open my eyes and see my ghostly face hovering in the water below and I would not be home. I felt my throat seize up tight and my chest spasm and I wanted to cry I hadnt cried in so long not since before Id met Bella when I would cry her tears and feel her pain and wonder and ache at the hole in my heart I hadnt known was there. I ground my teeth together and tried to breathe through my nose. I expected the sharp briny smell of creosote and the cold bite of winter filling my lungs. Instead I smelled Pledge, and Pine Sol, and Murphys Oil Soap. Smells of hardwood furniture that instinctively made the corners of my lips rise because they smelled so much like home. From somewhere in the distance I heard the scratching of a diamond needle on an old LP. I licked the back of my molars and heard Louis Armstrong singing What a Wonderful World. My eyes snapped open. I was in my room. My beautiful room with the white tiled floors and Emmetts stupid stars and my solid mahogany desk and leather couch and I was holding a gun to my temple. Slowly, I removed my finger from the trigger and lowered my hand. It was a Webley MK IV the standard sidearm of the British army in the 1920s and just one piece in Carlisles impressive British-trinket collection. I dropped the gun on the floor. The tile cracked beneath it. I was home? I studied the hand that had held the gun and saw nothing but purple-blue veins and the occasional freckle and a scar near my thumb I had gotten at some point growing up. There was no writing. There was no scar slicing the word FORKS in half or Bellas name or her tiny heart or my massive butcher-block letters stating my full name like some sort of fleshed-out hospital bracelet.

I unbuttoned my shirt to find that Bellas words were gone: no smudges, no rubbed out letters or the ghost image of ink left in the skin. Nothing. It was as if I had never pulled a trigger at all Not in Chicago, not in Tennessee, not here in my room with Jasper in front of me. But Jasper wasnt here. I found my feet and stood, shakily. Were unlucky. Were a disaster thats waiting to happened. I nearly buckled under the weight of my own memory. Where was Bella? She told me shed be here, waiting, when I woke up. Maybe it had worked maybe I was back at home like I had wanted so badly. But what if Bella couldnt follow me here what if I had gone back in time to a place when I didnt believe in Bella and therefore she couldnt exist? A thought hit me so hard I felt it I felt it in my stomach and in my joints and in the aching center of the back of my neck. What if everything had just been a dream? I looked at the gun on the floor and tried to remember the first day of the end of my life. Could I have just awoken from a very strange stupor? I tried to concentrate. I had been sitting in my room with Jasper. He told me he would kill himself if he could never be with Alice. He told me about someone named Johnny Ace and I somehow shot myself in the head. I remembered spinning the chamber of the gun. I remembered waking up in a spasm of pain in California. I remembered becoming immortal. I could kill myself a thousand times and keep waking up somewhere new, someplace else. I couldnt make that up. There was proof There was evidence I pulled back the sleeve on my arm again to where I knew it would say First things first, stay calm. But the words hadnt reappeared while I wasnt looking. My arm was still a blank expanse of skin and veins and the occasional freckle. I rubbed my thumb over the part that I knew should say Bellas name. I needed to go find her. I turned the doorknob and stepped out onto the landing. The house was quiet except for the music, and the sound of birds, and the hushed rustling of curtains through open windows. I touched the railing reverently, stared down into the foyer beneath my room. Big oriental carpets and Stickley furniture and a large brass chandelier. I walked down the stairs, waiting for something to happen for something to hit me so I could wake up and find myself back in Chicago. Hello? There was no one in the house. I pushed open the front door. Jaspers house was gone. The neighboring homes had disappeared and with them the cold winter mornings I used to know. It was entirely pleasant here the air crisp and clear and glowing with golden light. It looked like dawn. Nothing made sense. I hear babies crying, I watch them grow I turned around and looked at my home the place that I had fought so hard to come back to. But seeing it now made me realize that it didnt matter. Theyll learn much more than Ill ever know I turned back towards the front yard and the dark, dark forest beyond. I ran towards it, the front door still open. So Ill tell you a memory that you started to remember in Arizona: There was a meadow by our house you had to wade across a tiny stream with crystal cold water in it to get there.

I reached the tree-line and dove through it, pushing through the underbrush. Brambles snared my legs and ripped open my jeans. I cut my hand and kept running. I knew this forest. I understood it as if I had played here for many years as a child and know knew the trees by name could recognize them even though they had grown twenty feet and had followed me into adulthood. I didnt know where I was going or even understand why I was running from the place that I fought so hard to return to. I tripped over an upraised root and fell onto my hands and knees. When I looked up, I saw a small stream cutting through the woods. Id been here before. I knew this place. My heart hammered in my chest. I stood up and stepped into the stream without thinking or caring and bit back a shocked gasp when the steely cold water made contact with my skin. It soaked into my jeans and climbed the fibers up to my thighs. I pushed through it, feeling my shoes sinking into the mud and the water filling up my socks. I trudged through the mud, climbed up the slippery embankment. My clothes had turned the color of the forest and I looked at home here, as if I belonged. I walked forward my sneakers making squeaking sounds in the damp earth. I could see a light beyond a film of trees, could see green leaves in the place of skeletal branches. Winter had forgotten the trees ahead. Wild raspberries and blackberries grew there and wed go there to escape our parents. The day we killed ourselves, we went there to that meadow and watched the sunrise. I pushed past the vines and snares and through the naked branches until I reached the trees with leaves. I parted them with my hands. There it was: a meadow. Our meadow. Awash in brilliant golden light and shining with the warm cotton glow of morning. Insects hummed in spite of winter dandelions bloomed and the balmy smell of raspberries perfumed the glade. Id been here before. Across the meadow, lying on her back in the sun, was Bella. I moved towards her. Youre here, I said, lying down beside her. Her dark eyes opened, her crooked teeth smiled at me. Im here, she said. I didnt think youd be here. When I woke up you werent here. I had to come find you. Maybe it was just the light, but her eyes looked both sad and hopeful like how eyes look when someone has died and you have to be strong for the living. I told you Id follow you, she said. I fit the spaces of our fingers together. I squeezed and she squeezed back and I didnt feel so afraid, or so alone. I wondered if that song was still playing on Carlisles turntable. I wondered if Bella liked to dance. Where will we go from here? I asked. Wherever we want, she replied. Bella? Yes, Edward? Is this the end? I asked. She turned toward me and I knew all of the lines in her face by memory, every freckle, every blemish. I knew the place where her lip was most likely to crack and which teeth were crooked and could recall perfectly the number of lashes beneath each eye. Is everything okay? She asked. I looked around at the meadow and this girl and everything was okay. Everything was perfect.

Yes, I said. She nodded, Then its the end. I stared up at the sky and the clouds turning in the firmament and smiled. Im not sure where well go. But I know well find it, and I hope its beautiful.

Epilogue

The End