third wheel

Time seemed to speed up, and the days slipped by. Where before, each minute of every day had often seemed to drag on for an eternity, now I had an expected routine to keep me occupied. School, work, and hanging out with Jules every bit in between. It was a period of relief, and even though I knew I could be sucked back down into my previous state at any moment, at least now I had something to distract me.

"You know what day it is?" Jules asked out of the blue. It was one of our homework days, and we had our textbooks spread out across the tiny kitchen table in her house.

I blinked and looked up from the word problem I'd been working on for the last quarter of an hour. "Should I?"

She rolled her eyes. "You're in the negative on true man points now. Unless you actually do know, and you're pretending not to."

I stared at her blankly, mystified.

"Yeah," she said. "I knew it. You have no clue. Okay, here's the hint. You do know it's February now, right Beau? You at least know that much. The day is really well known. It starts with V and ends with ine."

I blinked again and blurted, "It's—it's Valentine's Day? Today?"

Jules was pretending to be annoyed, but she seemed positively delighted with my cluelessness. "Somebody get this guy a medal. Really, Beau, not even one tiny, fifty-cent box of candy? I repeat—failure as a man."

In fact, it didn't at all surprise me that I'd completely forgotten Valentine's Day. The days had been rolling by, one after another, an endless cycle on repeat, and I hadn't been paying much attention.

Jules casually reached into her bag and pulled out a small box and tossed it to me. Of course I missed it and it ended up on my math book. I picked it up and found it was a white box of conversation hearts.

"How many points do I get?" she asked, grinning. "I think I should get double since you dropped the ball."

I grinned back. However, I felt the barest flicker of uncertainty.

Despite the way I acted, I wasn't entirely clueless where things stood between Jules and me. From the first time I'd really met her down at La Push on the beach trip with McKayla and the others, she'd shown signs of interest in something more than just friends. And there were moments here and there where she seemed to drop hints. Jules wasn't a shy or secretive person, and she generally showed what she was thinking or feeling openly, but at the same time she wasn't the pushy type.

There was a part of me that wondered if I needed to be more up front. If I need to start thinking of a way to somehow convey to her that that just wasn't a possibility...That the part of me that had once been capable of that was irreparably broken.

But that seemed a little heavy to just bring out in normal conversation. And the last thing I wanted to do was risk chasing her away.

"So," said Jules. "What are we doing tomorrow? Hiking or ER?"

"Hiking," I said, bringing my mind back to earth. "I can get in the zone just as much as you. Although by now I'm starting to wonder if I completely imagined that place..." I frowned into space.

"I'm sure we'll find it," Jules said, then added with a grin, "Bikes Friday?"

I looked away. The bikes might be outliving their excitement for me. I was actually getting pretty proficient with my bike, which had won me back some man points and was resulting in fewer bandages to freak out Charlie, but it also meant that I hadn't been hearing the voice anymore. The silence of the voice scared me, and I knew I'd have to find something else adrenaline-inducing to meet my need. The possibility I might hear the voice when I found the meadow again also had me throwing myself obsessively into that.

However, I suddenly had an idea, and before I had a chance to think it through, I said, "Actually, I've been telling some of the people at school I'd catch a movie with them sometime, and I've been putting it off for forever. I'm sort of figuring on Friday for it."

Jules looked visibly disappointed, and she looked away quickly to hide the expression. "Oh," she said.

The look was too much for me, and I added in a hurry, "Hey, you should come, too. Unless you think it would be weird to hang out with a bunch of seniors."

Jules blinked and glanced back at me. "You'd really want me to go? When all your other friends are there?"

"Yeah," I said. I couldn't stop myself from adding, "To be honest, it'll be more fun if you're there. Bring Quil, too, if she wants to come. The more, the merrier."

Jules grinned. "Oh yeah, she'll be there. She's going to freak out. Senior guys always get a high ranking." I didn't mention Em, and neither did she.

I grinned back. "I'll try to get her a good selection."

McKayla was happy enough about the idea of seeing a movie on Friday, though she seemed a little disappointed when it became clear that this was going to be a group event. We'd have to get Allen and Becca, of course, Erica and Kyle, along with Jeremy, Taylor, Colleen, and I even tacked on the possibility of inviting Logan, too, just for good measure.

"There's also a couple of friends down from La Push I'm inviting," I said. "So we'll need your Suburban if everyone comes."

McKayla looked abruptly wary, though her voice was light as she asked, "Are these the friends you spend all your time studying with now?" Every time McKayla had hinted at the possibility of doing something together some evening, I'd given her my studying-with-friends excuse.

"Yeah," I said. "A couple of sophomores. It's been kind of like tutoring."

"Oh," she said, smiling a little. She asked, "So what movie did you pick out?"

I'd done my research this time, and I knew the one. "I'm thinking Crosshairs. That one looked good."

McKayla looked surprised. "That one? But didn't you get sick at Dead End? I thought you didn't like those kind of movies."

"Yeah," I said, doing my best to look sheepish. "I sort of feel like I want to redeem myself."

McKayla shook her head. "Just ignore Jeremy. There's nothing wrong with being sensitive. In fact—with practically all the guys in our school trying to act like tough guys all the time, it's kind of a nice change."

She suggested, "We could see something else. What about Bluefire? That action movie based on the book series. Lots of shooting and running, but not so much gore."

I shook my head. I'd looked at Bluefire, but there was a romantic subplot I didn't feel up to dealing with. "No, I really want to see Crosshairs. I think I'll like it, I was just feeling off last time."

"Well, okay," said McKayla, though not looking entirely convinced.

In the end, we probably wouldn't have needed McKayla's Suburban. Jeremy, still miffed about the Port Angeles thing, ditched out as soon as he found out I was involved in the planning, and Logan didn't need a reason to sneer and refuse anything involving Beaufort. Erica and Kyle already had plans, as apparently that day was their three-week anniversary. Logan, no doubt doing his best to spite me, made plans with Taylor and Colleen before McKayla could ask them, so they were also out. Even Quil wouldn't be there, as her parents had finally grounded her for endlessly staying out way beyond curfew. So in the end, McKayla and I were down to only Allen, Becca, and, naturally, Jules.

McKayla didn't seem at all disappointed by the smaller and more personal group, and I had a feeling she was privately happy at Logan's behind-the-scenes subversion.

The afternoon of the movie, I got home from school to find a very familiar car parked in front of our house. Jules was leaning against it, grinning so broadly I could see all her white teeth gleaming, standing out from her deep russet skin.

"Oh, no way," I said, as I climbed out of my truck and shut the door behind me. "No freaking way. You finished it?"

"She's all done," Jules said, patting the hood of the Rabbit 1986 with satisfaction. "So, you think I get to drive tonight?"

"Definitely," I said. "You are without a doubt, the most awesome person I know."

She grinned broadly. "Well, we both already know that. But the question is, am I getting lady points deducted for this?"

I laughed. "Just a few. But it's worth it, right?"

"Definitely."

I glanced over and saw McKayla's Suburban come around the corner. Jules looked up, too, and as her eyes swept across the driver's seat, her smile shrank a little, only to return full measure with a mocking quality.

"Oh," she said. "I remember this one. Is she still trying to make people think she's your girlfriend? Still hasn't given up, huh?"

I shrugged. "Honestly, I can't figure it out. I don't know what she sees to keep going this long. I think she just must be the dogged type."

"I know what she sees," said Jules, looking back at me, and far from her usual discomfort, there was a little smile playing on her lips, her dark eyes full of meaning. "And you know," she said, "sometimes a little doggedness is all it takes."

McKayla got out of her car and crossed the road. She was a little dressed up, her long blond hair fixed back in a french braid, lips painted with a clear lip gloss with a tinge of pink, and even a miniskirt, though she wore black leggings underneath to stave off the cold. She had on a silk scarf, and I could see a frilly white shirt underneath her coat.

"Hi, Beau," she called to me, then her eyes flickered to Jules. McKayla was the athletic type herself, always shined in school sports, and did a lot of outdoors stuff with her parents. However, seeing Jules's tall frame with her arms folded, lean muscles obvious even through the thin jacket she was wearing, she looked just a little intimidated.

"Hey," I said, then gestured to Jules. "Remember Julie Black?"

McKayla tried to smile, but couldn't quite manage it. She looked uncertain for a moment what to do, then at last came forward, tentatively offering her head. "Pleased to meet you."

"Beau's dad knew my dad really well," Jules said cheerfully. "You could say our families are old friends."

McKayla seemed to read the challenge in this assertion, and she dipped her head, though her eyes didn't break from Jules's.

Jules reached out a hand to shake McKayla's without unfolding the other one, and though it looked as though she barely squeezed for a second, McKayla yanked her hand away, rubbing her fingers as though to restore circulation. She eyed Jules with newfound wariness.

I heard the phone back in the kitchen ringing and, a little eager to escape the sudden tension in the air, I said, "That could be Charlie, I better get it." I raced inside.

When I returned back out, I moved much slower than I had going in, and I found the palpable tension in the air had not in the least abated, though Jules was smiling and looked like she was enjoying herself.

"Was it Charlie?" Jules asked. "What did he say?"

I shook my head. "That was Becca. Sounds like Allen came down with something all of a sudden, he's been throwing up since he got home from school. Probably the flu. And of course Becca's not coming if Allen's not."

"That's too bad," said McKayla. "Maybe we should hold off and do it some other day."

I opened my mouth to concur. My great plan wasn't looking so great now that it was just down to the three of us—the last thing I needed was an evening finding myself in the middle of some kind of a tug of war, or worse, refereeing a fight where Jules probably ended up pasting McKayla to the theater walls.

Unfortunately, Jules got there first. "I think we might as well go," she said. "I mean, we can always see another movie another time, right? And we're already here." She added, glancing in McKayla's direction, "Of course, if you'd rather not go...Maybe this is too violent a movie for you."

McKayla glanced between the two of us, then said quickly, "No, I'm up for seeing it." She added, almost defensively, "I like horror and slashers."

Jules shrugged, still grinning in that way that I was sure had to be getting under McKayla's skin. "Suit yourself."

McKayla's shoulders were slightly hunched and tense as she started to turn back toward her Suburban, but I reached over and tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey, McKayla?" I said.

She turned back to me, and she seemed to make an effort to look better humored. "Yes?"

I grinned sheepishly. "You mind if Jules drives? I told her she could. She just finished building it herself." I gestured at the Rabbit.

McKayla's attempt to look affable again slipped back a little. "Does it really run?" McKayla sniffed, with an uncharacteristic touch of nastiness.

Jules wasn't offended, and if anything, seemed to enjoy the hostility. "Oh, she runs all right. I drove her all the way down here from the reservation. I'd guess she runs better than that clunker you have there. But if you're afraid of getting stranded in a breakdown, you can always go home. Don't worry, we won't miss you."

McKayla was looking openly bad-tempered now, and she wordlessly stalked around the side of the Rabbit and climbed into the back, sitting there with her arms folded.

"Princess needs to learn to lighten up," said Jules in an undertone. "Or her face could get stuck like that."

"Be nice," I muttered back as I went around to the passenger's side.

Jules laughed softly. "I'll try." I didn't believe her.

Jules seemed perfectly at ease, and acted as though McKayla wasn't there, relating a few new funny stories she had added to her arsenal until I was laughing. McKayla was silent in the back, arms still folded. At last when Jules took a breath, she cut in, still with that slight touch of sour grapes, "Didn't you install a radio when you built this thing?"

"Sure I did," said Jules easily. "Great sound system. But Beau doesn't like music."

I blinked, startled. I'd never told her that. I'd never told anyone that.

"Really?" said McKayla, sounding skeptical.

"Yeah," I said, still stunned. "I don't."

McKayla frowned deeply, and turned her eyes to looking out the window the rest of the trip.

When we got to the theater, Jules handed me a crumpled up ten-dollar bill so that I could buy her a ticket into the movie. I'd forgotten this was an over-eighteen movie, and Jules was still sixteen.

"Hey," I said, feeling guilty. "Maybe we should see something else." I felt like a heel sneaking in an underage girl to see a slasher flick. But even as I made the suggestion, my gaze flickered apprehensively up to the giant sign for the only other movie showing at this time, Tomorrow and Forever. A romantic comedy. I think I blanched.

Jules waved a hand. "It's cool. My brothers took me to movies like this all the time. I think my first one was when I was ten."

I frowned. "They did?" I couldn't help but think if I had a younger sister, I would be a little more responsible than that.

"Sure. So I'm good. Besides, if we changed movies now, horror-lover over here would be really disappointed."

I visibly sagged with relief. "Well, if you're sure..."

McKayla was still looking a little sullen and out of humor. I wished my plans for a big group hadn't fallen apart, I felt partially responsible for creating this somewhat exclusionary dynamic. I hadn't meant for it to turn out like this, and Jules was not helping.

The movie turned out to be exactly what it looked like in the online summaries. Before the opening credits were finished, four people got blown up and one got beheaded. McKayla had taken a seat on one side of me, and I glanced down out of the corner of my eye, and noticed McKayla didn't even seem to be watching. Her face was tense, and she was glaring toward the fringe of curtain above the screen. I wasn't sure if that was because she was still annoyed about Jules taking her car, or that Jules had taken up the seat on my other side.

At first, I didn't really pay attention. I just watched the shapes and colors as they moved across the screen, until Jules suddenly snorted softly beside me and shook her head.

"What?" I whispered.

"Come on," she said in an undertone with derision, beneath the the sound of blazing gunfire and endless screaming. "The blood squirted twenty feet from that guy. How fake can you get?"

She chortled to herself as a flagpole speared another man into a concrete wall.

Before long, I found myself laughing too, as the mayhem grew increasingly outlandish. Funny—No matter where we were or what we were doing, even something torturous that I expected I would have to just grit my teeth and bear, with Jules there, it inevitably turned into something fun. Jules being there made all the difference.

But how, then, would I continue to keep things standing the way they did now between us—just friends—when it was so obvious to her and everyone else that I liked being with her so much?

McKayla had leaned a little toward me several times in the movie, as though to make it easy for me to put my arms around her shoulders. Jules leaned toward me too, though I wasn't sure if that was to let me put an arm around her, or if that was just so she could maintain her nonstop string of critical commentary. I kept my arms folded tightly across my chest anyway.

Partway through the movie, McKayla abruptly pulled away from me, and for a moment I was worried she had reached her limit and, like Jeremy, she was going to be put me on a black list from now on. However, she pitched forward, arm around her stomach, a hand covering her mouth.

"Hey," I said, concerned. "What's wrong?" A couple in front of us turned around to see what was going on.

"I don't...I don't feel good," she groaned. I noticed suddenly that she was pale and there was a sheen of sweat covering her face.

I stood up quickly, though not exactly sure what I should do. Awkwardly, I reached out to put a hand on her back. "Hey—" I said. "Let me—" However, by the time I moved, McKayla was already on her feet, and she dashed down the empty row of chairs and pushed through the theater doors.

I stared after her a minute, then started lumbering down the aisle after her, tripping on a few chairs on the way. I heard a guy from the row behind us mutter, "Yeah, loser, you better go after her." I could only guess he'd been watching my rigid, determinedly non-protective posture throughout the movie with disgust.

I heard Jules get up to come with me, and I gestured for her to stay, but she ignored me and followed me up the incline to the hallway outside.

"Hey," I said. "You spent eight bucks on that, you might as well get to watch it."

Jules laughed. "I've seen good slasher movies, and I've seen bad ones. That one was definitely bad. You really know how to pick 'em, Beau."

McKayla wasn't anywhere to be seen, and I was glad then that Jules was there, as she slipped into the women's restroom to see if she was there. She came back not long later, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, she's there. And after that big deal she made about loving slasher movies, too."

The hallway was deserted, as both theaters were halfway through their movies, and the two of us were alone. I could faintly hear the popcorn popping at the concession counter in the lobby.

Jules strode over and casually sat down on one of the velveteen benches against the wall, propping up one foot on a nearby potted plant. The plant was something exotic, with a tropical flavor.

"Come on," she said, patting the seat beside her. "From the looks of her, we could be here awhile."

I didn't know why, but something in Jules's expression made me a little uneasy. It was like the expression she had when she'd told McKayla that our dads had been old friends. Although Jules had never really seemed to push to move us beyond something other than where we seemed to be going naturally, it was like seeing McKayla had awakened some dormant competitive instinct. Like Jules suddenly realized she had something to prove. I couldn't know what would happen now.

Reluctantly I went and sat down beside her. She had one arm resting on her bent leg, and her head was leaning casually against her fingers. She didn't say anything, only looked at me for a long moment, never glancing away.

"What?" I said at last.

"Tell me something, Beau," she said. "Do you like me?"

I didn't know how to answer. "I...like hanging out with you," I said cautiously.

"Amounts to the same thing," she said. "You like being with me, more than being with princess in there puking her guts out. Right?"

"Yeah," I said slowly.

"You like being with me more than anyone," she said, and this time it was a statement, not a question.

My stomach was tight. Fear had taken a hold of it. I had no choice but to answer honestly. But if she started pressing for more...and I had to be honest about that...and everything fell apart...how could I go back? How could I go back to nothing after living in this blessed reprieve for so long?

"Yeah," I said, and my voice was low, almost a croak. "You're my best friend."

"But that's all," she concluded.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

To my surprise, Jules grinned. "That's okay," she said bracingly. "As long as I'm at the top of your list. I'm a dogged person, and maybe I don't look it, but I can be patient when I want to be. It took me forever to finish the Rabbit. But I just had to wait for all the parts to come my way."

I didn't know what to say. My chest was tight. The last thing I wanted was to drive her away, but how could I just let things go along, keeping her tied to me with false hope? She was a rare gem in this world, a bright, happy person that could make everything around her warm and brighter, too. Did I have the right lure her in with a bit of plastic bait, set a hook in her mouth, and reel her in just to bring a bit of ease to the great black chasm where my heart used to be?

I shook my head. "Jules..." I began, and my voice cracked. "I'm...I'm just not good for that sort of thing anymore. Nothing is going to change."

Jules looked at me, and her teasing smile turned to a pensive expression. "It's still her, isn't it?" she said.

I felt a sharp pain in my chest, and my eyes dropped. Weird, how she seemed to know not to say the name, when even Charlie hadn't realized it. Like in the car, with the music. I was beginning to realize she was a lot more observant than I'd ever guessed.

She suddenly reached over and casually took my hand in hers—it was surprisingly warm.

"I'm giving you some points," she announced.

"Points?" I said, frowning. "You mean man points? For what?"

She grinned. "For not using the 'You're like a sister' line. That is such a cop-out."

I was surprised. "I didn't even think of that."

"And," she added, meeting my eyes. "For being honest. I don't know exactly what you've been through, and you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I know guys are just supposed to be tough and stoic, and never shed a tear about anything. But you know what I think? I think heartbreak is heartbreak, no matter who you are."

At her candid words, I expected the pain in my chest to explode, to lash out at me, and try to drag me under. But as I looked back at her, I didn't feel anything of what I expected to feel. Instead, I felt—almost relieved. Somehow, when I was with Jules, even on days that had the potential to be the worst I felt okay. It was ironic, because she understood that there was a part of me that was broken—and because of that, when I was with her, I could feel whole, at least for a while.

We gazed at each other for a long minute, until the moment was broken as McKayla emerged from the bathroom, leaning against the frame and looking haggard.

"Would you..." she panted. "Would you mind terribly if we left a little early?"

"Of course not," I said, going over to her and putting a hand on her back as I helped her to the exit.

"Maybe you don't like horror and slashers as much as you think after all, eh?" said Jules cheerfully.

McKayla glowered. "I didn't even see the movie," she said in a hoarse voice. "I started feeling sick before we even sat down."

"You should have said something," I said as I moved to push open the door.

"I just thought it was nerves," she said, swaying slightly. She put a hand to her mouth again and coughed, though thankfully didn't throw up.

"Hold on a second," Jules said. She dashed back to the concession stand. She talked to the guy at the counter for a minute, gesturing back at us. A moment later she returned with an empty popcorn bucket. At the incredulous look we gave her, she explained, "The smell of vomit in a car is like skunk. It never comes out."

I sighed as I helped McKayla into the back seat of the car, and she took the popcorn bucket, bending over it and coughing several times. She sucked in a deep breath of the cool night air, and as that seemed to help, we rolled down the windows.

I shivered in the chill air curling into the truck, and pulled my jacket in a little bit closer.

"Cold?" she asked as we sped down the highway back to Forks.

"A little," I said, shivering again, though it was an understatement. I looked over at her, in her light jacket and T-shirt. "You're not?"

She shrugged. "No, it kind of feels good to me." She grinned and reached over and grabbed my hand playfully. "Wow, you really are cold. You're like an ice block."

"Maybe you just have a fever or something," I grumbled. "Or you're a freak of nature."

She laughed. "There's always that possibility."

However, as I felt her hand around mine, I couldn't help but notice that it did feel unnaturally warm. Without thinking, I reached over and touched her forehead.

"Hey," she protested, ducking away from me. "That's freezing."

"You're burning up," I said, a little alarmed. "Seriously burning up, Jules—are you okay?"

She shrugged again. "I feel fine. I think you're just cold."

I nodded, and settled back down. Maybe she was right.

I stared out the window as we went, and McKayla emptied the contents of her stomach into the popcorn bucket. My thoughts churned, going over my conversation with Jules at the theater. A friend like her was so much more than what I deserved. It wasn't really fair what I was doing. I kept telling her the truth, but maybe that was worse than telling a lie, and breaking things off before she got seriously hurt. She knew I was broken, but the problem was that she still suffered under the delusion that I could be fixed. She thought she could fix me, and she couldn't. Maybe she could polish up the outside, even scavenge a few parts from the dump and get bits and pieces of me going again. But she'd never find a master cylinder, she'd never get me running properly again. And letting her think she might just to keep her near—I should lose all the man points in the world.

I knew what I should do, but I knew I wouldn't. I knew I wouldn't say or do anything to make the break. Because there was something wrong with me, and I couldn't do what was best for her, because I needed her too much.

I drove McKayla back to her house in her Suburban, and Jules followed along behind in her car to take me back.

Jules was unusually quiet as we drove back to my house. I began to wonder if she was thinking about our conversation too, and beginning to rethink her declaration.

"Well," she said as she pulled her car up next to my truck. "We're kind of early, so normally I'd say we should do something. But...I don't know, maybe you were right about the fever. I'm starting to feel kind of weird."

"Hey," I said, grabbing her arm. "You want me to drive you home?"

She shook her head, brow clouded. "No, it's okay. I don't feel sick exactly, at least not yet. I just feel kind of...off. And I can pull over if I have to."

"Are you sure?" I said. "I can drive you, no problem. It would make me feel better."

She smiled a little, though her eyes were still a little distracted. "Then I'd have to leave the Rabbit here overnight. She's still too young to be away from her mother for very long."

"Okay," I said, the edge of anxiety still in my voice. "Call me as soon as you get there."

"Sure, sure," she said.

I opened my door to get out, but she reached over and took my wrist. Once again, her skin seemed to burn against mine.

"Yeah?" I said. "Do you want me to drive you after all?"

Her brow was furrowed, and her eyes flickered downward. "I...I want you to know something, Beau," she said.

I felt suddenly nervous again, and from her tone, I guessed this was going to be more of the same from the theater. "Yeah?" I said cautiously.

"I know, Beau..." she said slowly. "I know how down you feel so much of the time, and maybe I can't always help, but—thanks again for answering me honestly. Let's make a promise—we won't ever lie to each other. That doesn't mean we have to talk about everything, but...we'll be honest when it counts. You can feel free to be honest with me, Beau, because—because I'll always have your back. I won't ever do anything to hurt you, Beau. I won't ever let you down."

I looked back at her. I knew what I should probably do, before this could go any further. I should start to erect a wall between us, little by little, ween her from the desire to be around me. Until the fact that I was broken and could never give her what she hoped for couldn't hurt her. I should lie until I pushed her away, and save her from pouring all her warmth and light down this empty, bottomless pit. But I couldn't. I knew she wouldn't let me down—I was the one. I was the one who would let her down. And still I couldn't stop myself from doing it.

"Yeah, Jules," I said, smiling, though I was sure the desperation crept into my voice. "I know. I already count on you more than you know."

Her smile lit her entire face, but then there was a flicker, a frown and a touch of confusion. "I...really think I better get home," she said.

I got out quickly. "Don't forget to call me," I said, then shut the door.

I watched her pull out of the driveway and speed back down the road. I found myself thinking about what she had said, about my not using the You're like a sister line. Now that I thought about it, that would have been the perfect solution. Then I could continue to do what I was doing now without guilt, without feeling like I was rushing toward an inevitable train wreck. Without feeling like I was using her.

There were a few things I knew—I hadn't meant to open myself up again, to love someone, even if it wasn't the same kind of love. Love made you vulnerable, it made you breakable, so much more than being a weak human in a world of vampires ever did. I'd been broken, and now my chest would no longer hold the kind of love it did before. I didn't want to end up hurting Jules the way I had been, when she realized I couldn't be put back together. Yet I realized now that love didn't just have the power to break you, it could also twist you, make you into something ugly. And I knew that between driving Jules away, saving her that pain, and keeping her with me, letting her try to change that which would never change—my kind of love would send us both spiraling down into hell.

I went inside, kicking off my shoes on the way and went straight to the phone.

"Movie over already?" Charlie called with some surprise. He was in his usual place in front of the television, though he was sitting on the floor to be closer. Maybe it was a really good game.

"McKayla got sick partway through," I said. "Some kind of stomach flu. Probably the same thing Allen got, he wasn't able to come."

Charlie eyed me. "How about you?" he asked. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," I said, though it did occur to me that I had been exposed now.

I leaned against the kitchen counter, drumming my fingers against the cool surface. I berated myself for not making her let me drive her home.

The minutes ticked by. At fifteen, I was gripping my hands tightly together. I usually took fifteen minutes to drive down there, and Jules almost always drove faster than I did. At eighteen minutes, I picked up the phone and dialed the Blacks' place.

The ringing seemed to last an eternity. Maybe Bonnie had already gone to bed. Or maybe I'd hit the wrong number by accident. I tried again.

On the eighth ring, Bonnie finally answered.

"Hello?" she said cautiously. Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought her tone was a little off.

"Bonnie, it's Beau. Did Jules make it there okay? She left here about twenty minutes ago."

"She's here," Bonnie answered, and her voice was flat.

Bonnie, like Charlie, had always been very encouraging where Jules and my friendship was concerned, so her tone of voice now threw me a little.

"She seemed like she wasn't feeling well when she left, so I told her to call me when she got in," I said, trying to explain myself.

Bonnie still sounded distant and distracted as she said, "She's...pretty sick. She couldn't call."

I knew if Jules was that bad off, I should probably let Bonnie get back to taking care of her.

However, I thought of Bonnie stuck in her wheelchair, and said, "Hey, if you need any help doing anything, I can come down there. I can come down right now."

"No," Bonnie said sharply. Then, as though making the effort to make her voice sound more relaxed, she said, "I mean no. Thank you, Beau, but we'll be fine. Jules has been sick before and we've always managed. Stay there."

In spite of her effort, there was still an edge in her voice, and it sounded almost like a command.

"Well...okay..." I said uncertainly.

"Bye, Beau," Bonnie said shortly, then I heard the line click.

"Bye," I muttered.

I set down the receiver. Jules had apparently made it back okay, but for some reason I couldn't explain, I was still antsy. I felt restless and agitated as I made my way up the stairs to my room and threw myself down on my bed. Maybe I'd drop by over there tomorrow, just to see how she was doing. She probably had the flu, same as McKayla and Allen had, so maybe I could stop by the drug store and grab some anti-fever and anti-nausea pills, though probably she would just have to let it pass.

However, I realized my plans wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon as I woke up four-thirty in the morning and had to dash to the bathroom across the hall to throw up everything I had eaten the night before. I knew it was probably pointless to blame McKayla, but I did anyway.

Charlie pronounced the diagnosis when he found me laying on the bathroom floor a half hour later. "Stomach flu," he said.

I only groaned in response.

Charlie was always out of his element when it came to caring for invalids, and he said uncertainly, "You need anything, Beau?"

"Call into work for me," I said in a strained voice. "Tell them I'm—" I had to pause to throw up into the toilet bowl. "—Sick."

"Sure, I'll tell them," Charlie said, looking eager to be away as fast as possible.

I spent the rest of the day laying on the bathroom floor, head on a crumpled up towel. Charlie had to go to work, and he left a glass of water on the floor next to me so I could keep myself hydrated. At some point I drifted off to sleep, and I didn't wake up until I heard the door slam downstairs when Charlie got back home. He came straight up the stairs to check to see how I was doing.

"Everything all right?" he said. "Feeling better at all?"

I felt like it was better not to answer that question as I sat up and leaned over the toilet again, not sure if I was feeling another attack coming on.

Charlie stood uncertainly there a minute, then said, "Do you want anything?"

I wordlessly shook my head.

Charlie shifted awkwardly a minute more, before he said, "All right, then." He clumped back downstairs.

We got a phone call later, and I found out McKayla was feeling better. I hoped that meant the end was in sight. Then again, McKayla had gotten the bug a full eight hours before I had, so I still had a long ways to go.

I finally was able to get back to sleep on my towel again, and when I woke I thought I felt a little better. I looked up and, seeing pale light streaming in through the tinted bathroom window, figured it was probably morning.

I looked down and noticed a couple more towels had been folded up beneath my head for more support, and someone had draped an old hunting blanket over me. Charlie must have been in.

I still felt a bit shaky and weak, and the taste of vomit still coated the inside of my mouth, but as I got slowly to my feet, leaning heavily against the bathroom counter, I didn't feel nauseated. It had been over twenty-four hours since I'd come down with bug, so maybe I was done.

I waited an hour or two, having a light breakfast, and moving like a sloth around the house, until I was pretty sure it wasn't going to come back, then I headed to the phone.

This time, it was Jules who answered the phone, but her voice had such a rough, grating quality to it I almost didn't recognize it at first.

"...Hello?"

"Hey, Jules," I said, the words coming out as a sigh. "How are you feeling?"

There was silence on the other end for a moment, then she said dully, in a voice like sandpaper, "I feel...horrible."

"I'm sorry, this is my fault. You probably got it from McKayla when we went to the movie. I got it, too, but I'm feeling better now."

"You were sick?" she said vaguely.

"Yeah, but it's just a twenty-four hour bug. I'm sure you'll be over it in a few hours. Sorry, it's my fault."

"Don't...apologize," she said, and her voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm happy...I'm happy I went. And...I don't think I have what you had."

I don't know what it was, but something in her tone alarmed me. It sounded almost fatalistic.

"What is it?" I said. "What's wrong?"

Another pause. "I...I just hurt. Everything, every part of me, inside and out. I've never felt like this before."

"Hey," I said. "What do you need me to do? I can come down and stay with you and get things for you. I know Bonnie has trouble getting around."

"No," she said, and though her voice was still hoarse, her tone had a sudden severity, not unlike Bonnie's the other night. "No...you can't come here."

"I've already been exposed to whatever you have," I argued. "It won't make a difference."

"Listen, Beau," she said. "I'll call you again when I get the chance. I'll tell you when you can come down. Until then, don't do anything."

"Jules—"

"I've got to go," she whispered, suddenly urgent.

"Okay," I said, though all I wanted was to keep her on the line—as long as I could hear her voice, I knew she was still okay. "Get some rest. Call me when you feel better."

She gave a harsh, almost bitter chuckle, and again it scraped against my eardrums like gravel on a chalkboard. "Right."

I was silent, waiting for her to hang up, but she didn't, and didn't say anything.

At last I said, "Hope to see you before long. Feel better soon."

"Wait for me to call," she repeated.

"I will...See you, Jules."

She let out a single broken breath like a sigh, and I heard her breathe my name. Then she hung up.