Autumn Romance

Chapter 1

Cute boys and Apple Trees

A cool October wind gusted through the mountains of New Hampshire, heralding in Autumn and ushering out summer. It seemed overnight that the lush green leaves changed to a riot of color; crimson red, buttery yellow, tangerine orange and cinnamon brown. The ground was covered in papery leaves, giving people, the sudden urge kick them into the air. Even adults couldn't help themselves, laughing and feeling that long forgotten playfulness. There was just something about this time of year that gave people permission to feel young again.

Our small, Mount Washington town was decorated with fat little pumpkins, bails of fragrant hay, dried corn stalks and homemade scarecrows. Some went so far as to turning their front lawns in to full blown Halloween displays. As we speak, my neighbor, Pastor Weber was putting the final touches on his haunted house. Over the years he's added skeletons, coffins that pop open and scream, smoke machines and grotesque monsters… it was good old-fashioned, community fun. But my favorite thing to do during Autumn was to visit the local apple orchard. Every year we converge on Newton's Orchard to buy a bushel of delicious apples and locally grown produce. The way the apple tasted, fresh from the tree was tart and sweet with a crisp bite. The juice settled on your tongue for the entire day, the flavor returning to your palate when you least expect it.

After visiting the Orchard, my mom would bake pies, press apple into cider and pump out huge apple cinnamon muffins. But my personal favorite was my grandmother's candied apples. She made them every year for the neighborhood Fall Festival and was personally responsible for ruining many sets of expensive braces.

Of course, we weren't the only family to enjoy Autumn's delights.

Local townsfolk gathered to enjoy a fun afternoon of fresh air and wagon rides over the rolling green hills of Newton's Orchard. The kids liked to pick their favorite pumpkin straight from the pumpkin patch, pet farm animals, or get lost in a corn maze. They even held different events, like weddings and birthday parties. Then, as dusk falls on Saturday night, the twinkle lights in the barn come to life and we gather to listen to local musicians and dance.

In my opinion, nothing was better than that.

I dashed down the stairs and grabbed the French blue cardigan my grandmother knitted for me. Normally I'd balk at wearing something so obviously homemade, but since she passed away, it brought her closer to me.

I missed her...

It's hard losing someone you're close to. Especially when it was one of the only people that really understood you. That person was grandma for me, and now she was gone, leaving a huge, gaping hole in my heart. I tried to fill it with other friendships and activities… but so far, none of them came close to the warm, loving, uncomplicated relationship that grandma and I had.

Sliding into my irreplaceable sweater, I called out for my mother.

"Hey, mom?"

"Yes?" she called back, her voice floating from the kitchen.

"I'm heading out."

I swiped my long hair from the collar and buttoned up.

"When will you be back?" she asked.

Not entirely sure, I ballparked it.

"In a couple of hours, I think."

Renee Swan came around the corner, a peeler in hand and an apron covered in carrot and potato shavings. She glanced at her wrist watch with furrowed brows. "And where do you think you're going just before dinner?"

"I have an interview at Newton's Orchard at 4."

Her stern demeaner softened into an amused grin. "You're seeking employment?"

I frowned. "What's so funny about me getting a job? I am sixteen, legally allowed to work."

"Oh," she said airily, waving her peeler in the air. "I was just expecting your help around the house is all."

"Aha," I said suspiciously.

She huffed. "Alright, fine. I've been getting the urge to Fall clean and I'd appreciate your help."

Oh no. It was literally the only thing about this time of year that I didn't like. Mom turned into a crazy woman, tidying up the house and yard, buttoining it all up for the coming winter.

"You know," she said, hands moving to her hips. "I can't rely on your father to properly clean out that filthy garage, no matter how much I nag."

"True," I said, giving her that.

"He'll gripe and complain when I move his tools and fishing gear around," she continued. "It'll turn in to an unnecessary fight. You just watch."

"I'm sure it will."

"But it's his own fault for not doing it himself."

"You're right."

"I mean, once the snow hits in November, we'll have to start parking the cars in the garage. So really, I have no choice but to do it if he won't."

"I agree," I said, pushing through the screen door with one foot on the porch.

"And that front yard," she went on a bit louder, getting more animated. "It's an embarrassment. It needs to be raked before the fall festival, or we'll be the only house on the block without decorations. I'm usually ahead of the game, but with school just starting I have no free time. I mean, just look at it, Bella!"

"I am."

"And yesterday when I put the cat out all you could see was his tail cutting a path through the leaves!"

Speaking of Shaggy, he darted across the porch chasing a leaf caught in the breeze. He pounced off the edge to try to catch it, and… POOF… ended up disappearing into a pile of leaves below.

I chuckled. Maybe mom had a point about raking. It was pretty, bad.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as she recalled something else. "I was also thinking that it's time to tear down that old gazebo in the back yard. It's rotting right through, and no one ever uses it except squirrels and chipmunks. It's like a wildlife sanctuary out there."

If I didn't stop her free-flow of grievances, she'd keep going until her blood pressure was beyond repair.

"Mom!" I cried, holding up my hands for her to stop. She was obviously following a mental list, and I got caught in the current. "I already said I'll help you. I promise. But just not today. Okay?"

She took a breath and relaxed, sense returning.

"You're right," she said. "I'm sorry." I nodded my forgiveness.

"You know, honey, you don't have to take a job. Your dad and I always give you pocket money when you need it."

"Oh, I know," I admitted. "And I appreciate it, believe me. But I kind of want my own money, you know? Christmas is coming, and twenty bucks just isn't enough for decent presents anymore."

Mom bit her lip, listening and nodding.

She reached out and rubbed my arm. "I just don't want this job to take away from your studies," she said. "Besides, you still so young, sweetheart. Enjoy your freedom while you have it. Real life comes fast enough."

I smiled, gazing into her hazel eyes. There was wisdom in them.

"I understand that, mom. And I won't let it interfere with school. I promise."

"Okay," she sighed, giving in with grace. "If you must."

"I must."

She crossed her arms, looking amused. "So, where is this interview anyway?"

"Newtons Orchard."

She blinked, surprised.

"Oooh," she grinned. "Now I see."

I frowned.

"You do?"

Her eyes were glittering with amusement. "This wouldn't have anything to do with Jacob, now would it?"

"Jacob?"

I was completely confused.

"Yes, you know, your handsome, flirty friend that works at the Orchard too."

I rolled my eyes skyward.

"Jacob and I are just friends, mom. You know that."

"Sure, sure," she said, not believing a word I said.

I felt myself flush with embarrassment, only making her cat-like grin grow wider.

I scoffed.

"Jacob isn't even working at the farm this season! He got a job with the grocery store this summer... remember?"

"Oh," she said, crestfallen. "I guess I forgot about that."

"Obviously."

Renee was positive her daughters sudden urge to work at the apple orchard was because of the tall, dark and handsome Jacob Black. She always suspected the flirting would, one day, lead to something more.

Shockingly so far, it hadn't.

"Well," She rallied. "You'd better get going then. Don't want to be late for your first interview."

First interview, Renee lamented. Why is she in such a damn hurry to grow up?

Renee watched her daughter stumble across the porch, eyeing her contemplatively. Bella was now sixteen and blooming into a beautiful young woman with long, wavy hair, pretty amber eyes and a sweet smile. Though her youth remained around the edges, the woman she was about to blossom into was undeniable. She'd seen the way Jacob looks at her daughter, and understood that he felt something more than friendship for her. But did Bella know?

Renee sighed, feeling anxious all of a sudden.

Honestly, she couldn't have a better friend than Jacob. He was a good kid with good grades and good family values, a true hometown boy that both her and Charlie approved of. But teenage hormones have a way of messing with solid friendships, and it concerned her. Those childhood goggles had to come off sooner than later, and when it did…

"Good luck, honey," mom waved from the porch, dithering.

"Thanks mom," I smiled and waved at the gate.

I shivered as a cool breeze blew through the front yard, sending leaves scattering through the air. I pulled my sweater closer to my body, snuggling into the warm blue yarn. Taking a deep breath through my nose, I smiled. It even smells like Fall; cool, spicy and nutty with just a hint of winter to come.

"Oh, Bella, wait!" I turned back toward the porch and found mom shuffling down the path toward me.

What now?

"Here." She handed me a twenty-dollar-bill. "Can you please pick me up some apples at the orchard? I suddenly feel like baking." I smiled, glad I wasn't the only one stirredby the season. New Englanders, born and raised, know exactly what I'm talking about; warm days, cold nights, bon fires, hearty food and weekend football games.

"Sure, no problem," I said, pocketing the twenty.

"Good luck, baby. I am so proud of you."

I smiled wide, warming at her praise. "You really are?"

"Of course, I am." She strode toward me and gave me a quick hug. "What a silly question."

I chuckled in her arms.

"Now, go get em' tiger," she said, nudging me through the fence. "Another Swan in the work force."

I laughed, waving as she went back inside.

I closed the fence gate behind me and walked down the quiet sidewalk.

My neighbor's house was all decked out for Halloween, decorations scattered across the front lawn in various degrees of assemblage. Cars were slowing down and pointing at the decorations, their kids pressing their little faces against the backseat window with wide eyes.

Pastor Weber was balancing on a ladder against his roof with a stapler in hand. He was stringing orange and purple twinkle lights along the roof, making sure they strobed properly.

"Looking good, Pastor Weber!"

He smiled and waved. "Hey, thanks, Bella! You coming to the Fall Festival next weekend?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

"We could always use more volunteers for the booths."

"I'll spread the word."

"Great!" He waved and went back to stapling the lights with a methodic ca-chunk, ca-chunk, ca-chunk…

I looked both ways at the street corner and crossed to the general store. Halloween costumes were on display outside of the store and an excited little boy was sifting through the lot. He found a Spiderman mask and tugged excitedly on his mother's arm.

"Mommy, look! I found Spiderman!"

She nodded without really looking.

"That's nice, dear."

He gasped and grabbed something in the nearby bin. "Hey, mom, I could use silly string to shoot webs! See?" He pretended to shoot webs from his wrists.

That got his mother's attention.

"Oh, no you don't, mister!" She took it from his hand like it was a bomb. "The last thing I need is for you shooting people in the face with silly string."

"But mom…

I snickered at the little boy's disappointed pout, thinking back to my own past costumes and how excited I was about them. I was Elmo, a princess, a ghost, a vampire, Hermione Granger, a zombie and so on. Of course, they developed as I grew with age, but Halloween was a serious business for kids. Don't mess with their costume ideas.

"Hey, Bella!" I turned around at the next stop sign and found my friend Alice running toward me while securing her gray pea coat and pink scarf.

I smirked and shook my head. "It's not that cold outside, Al."

She tossed the scarf around her neck and stuck her hands in her pockets. "Yes, it is."

I looked up at the time and temperature sign at the post office. 66 degrees.

"You could always wear more layers, like Randy from a Christmas Story." I held my arms out to the side. "I can't put my arms down!"

She glared, not amused. "Shut it, Swan."

I laughed, amusing myself.

A cool breeze gusted through the town square, lifting my long hair off my shoulders.

"Brr," Alice shivered. "Thank god I got this coat last week."

I looked her up and down, admiring her latest outfit. She always looked very put together and fancy compared to my sweater and jeans ensemble. I glanced down at her suede ankle booties comparing them to my gray and pink Sketchers. We were night and day, her and I. A simple country girl and an aspiring fashionista.

"All dressed up and nowhere to go?" I teased.

"That's every day of my life," she grumbled.

"So," I smirked. "What were you doing before I came along?"

She held up a plastic bag from the general store.

"Mom sent me out to buy pie-tins, of all things." She rolled her eyes to demonstrate how ridiculous she thought this was. "Apparently, her good tins have gone missing, and she's in a complete fit over it."

I grinned, imagining Mrs. Brandon and her expensive pearls turning her gourmet kitchen upside down, yelling about pie tins. Then I frowned, looking at the small plastic bag she was holding.

"So, where are the tins then?"

"Oh," she held up her purchase with an impish grin. "I bought myself a bag of peanut M&M's and Redbull with her money. I'll tell her they were out of tins or something."

I shook my head, amused. "She won't believe you."

"I know," she shrugged, unconcerned.

She turned a critical eye on me after popping open the energy drink and taking a long draft. "Where are you going in that get-up?"

I blanched, feeling defensive.

"What do you mean, get up? You're the one strutting around a rural town wearing Ralph Lauren."

"It's Burberry."

"Whatever."

"I mean, look at that sweater," she waved to it in example. "It's straight out of Anne of Green Gables. FYI, Bella, this is the twenty first century."

I closed my eyes, breathed through my nose and reminded myself that I loved Alice, that murdering her would be a bad thing.

"My grandmother," I explained. "… made this sweater for me, Alice. It's important. So, I'd appreciate you not picking it apart, okay?"

She shrugged, not looking apologetic in the least. "I was just trying to be helpful."

No, you were just being a rich, judgmental bitch. Again.

This was an on-going battle between us, my disinterest in fashion and her overblown sense of superiority. I decided to change the subject, before I took her Redbull and splashed it into her face.

"I'm going to Newtons Orchard," I said, turning to leave.

"Why are you going there?"

"I have a job interview."

She scrambled to catch up.

"Wait a minute," she called, grabbing my arm. "You're getting a job?"

I scoffed and turned back toward her. "Why is everyone so surprised by that?"

"Gee," she said sarcastically. "I don't know. Maybe because most sixteen-year old's, don't work during school months."

"Well, that's just stupid," I said, waving it off. "Our parents worked at our age. Why not us?"

"Because we have a lot more pressure than they did."

"Maybe you're right," I admitted. "But that pressure is mostly self-inflicted. We don't always have to keep up on social media."

Alice gasped, her hand grasping her iPhone. "Blaspheme!"

I cracked a smile and chuckled.

"Bella!" a male voice called. "Hey, wait up!"

We stopped and turned back toward the store. Mike Newton was running toward us with a huge grin on his face, waiting for a car to go by before he crossed to join us on the other side of the street. He was wearing a green work smock, rugby shirt and jeans.

"See," I hissed at Alice. "Mike works during the school year too." Alice gave me a dark look.

He stopped in front of us and beamed. He was red cheeked with excitement. I snickered. Mike Newton was always so delighted to see me. It was flattering, but becoming tiresome in the sense that I wasn't interested in anything more than friendship. Besides, his girlfriend noticed it too.

"Hi, Mike," I smiled patiently, glancing at the town clock. I needed to get going or risk being late for my interview. "Working today?"

He rolled his sky-blue eyes. "When aren't I working?"

Mike's father had him working at the General Store every week night. It was the busy season for the store and he needed all hands-on deck.

"So," he said breathlessly, running his hand through his blonde hair, his expression bright with interest. "Where are you guys going?"

I threw my thumb over my shoulder. "I was on my way to the Apple Orchard."

"Oh, Pop's farm?"

"Yep."

Mike's grandfather was the owner of Newton's Orchard. Their family had lived in the White Mountains for generations, and owned a few local stores as well as the family farm. They employed a decent amount of the town, making the Newton's economically important.

"Hey, can you hang on for like, fifteen minutes?" he asked. "I could give you a ride to the farm after my shift ends. Besides, I have something I want to ask you."

I froze, everything slowing down around me.

Uh oh.

"Well," he started, suddenly shy. "I was wondering if maybe you would like to…

"Michael!" someone shouted, cutting him off. Mike jumped and spun toward the store. A balding, heavy set man with a bushy brown mustache stood in the stores doorway.

"Dad," he said, darting an embarrassed look over his shoulder at us.

"What are you doing out here?" His father eyed Alice and me. His thoughts were clear in his displeased expression. Girls.

"I was trying to talk to Bella," Mike hinted.

"Well, while you're out here having a nice chat with your friends, your mother and I are swamped in here. We could use your help at the cash register."

When Mike didn't immediately move, his father barked, "Now!"

"Okay, okay," Mike grumbled. He turned and said a quick, embarrassed goodbye. With a slumped, submissive posture, he walked back inside the busy store, his father close at his heels to prevent further straying.

With a jingle of the door… Mike was gone.

"Holy crap," Alice gasped. "I think Mike was going to ask you to Homecoming!"

I shot her a startled look. "What?!"

Alice sighed and tossed her can in the trash.

"Yesterday he was talking to me during gym class, about Jessica and how she's been bugging him about the dance. He didn't look too enthusiastic. I think things are shaky between them."

"That's an understatement," I muttered, thinking of the loud, public fight they had in the cafeteria today.

Alice agreed with a grim expression.

"But then he sort-of, you know… started hinting around about you," she said. "... and asking if you had a date yet."

I threw my head back and groaned. "Oh, no."

Alice looked apologetic and meek. "Sorry."

"Well what did you tell him?" I demanded.

"That you didn't have a date," she shrugged guiltily.

"Oh, come on, Alice!"

People looked at us as they walked by.

"What?" Alice demanded.

"You could have lied or something!"

"How could I have lied?" she asked. "He would have asked who you were going with, and I wouldn't have an answer."

I sighed, feeling defeated.

"You're right," I admitted. "But, my god, the last thing I need is Jessica freaking Stanley glaring daggers at me all through Homecoming. I can see it now, a furious Jessica dancing with Mike, but knowing he asked me first."

"Yikes," Alice breathed, empathetic.

"It'll start up the fighting between Jessica and myself, all over again."

We had a bit of a rocky past.

"So, what are you going to do then?" Alice asked, feeling bad.

I sighed and shrugged. "Beat him to the punch and tell him that I'm not interested in going to the dance with him. Then tell him to never ever mention this to Jessica."

"Yeah, but I think Jessica already suspects."

I jumped, eyes wide.

"How?!"

"She was in gym with us, watching Mike talk to me." Alice shrugged. "Once it was over she stormed off, muttering under her breath."

I rallied.

"Maybe she thinks he asked you to the dance?"

"No," she shook her head, certainly. "She knows there's a reason Mikes not asked her to Homecoming yet. And well, Mike's always liked you. Not me. Besides, Jessica may be a bitch, but she's not stupid."

"That's a matter of opinion," I muttered moodily.

Alice snorted. "Yes, but she knows I'm your best friend. Why else would Mike be talking to me? We don't hang out. The only thing we have in common is you."

"Dammit," I spat, kicking a rock with the toe of my shoe. It sailed across the street and banged into a trash can with a loud clang.

"I've never given Mike any reason to think I liked him!"

"I know," she agreed. "But boys aren't good at differentiating between platonic friendship and crushes."

"True," I said. "Jacob being the exception, of course."

She gave me a funny look that I didn't understand, but it passed as quickly as it came.

"To them," Alice said. "It's either on, or not."

"Jessica already hates me," I despaired. "This will only exasperate it."

"No, she doesn't hate you." Alice placated. I gave her a look that suggested she was Looney-Tunes. "Well," Alice grinned, lips twitching. "Maybe she does. Just a little."

We looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Oh my God, she hates me so much," I laughed, recalling how the rivalry started.

Our second-grade class had just sat down in the cafeteria for lunch. I was stuffed in between Jessica Stanley and Eric Yorke, all of us tugging uncomfortably at our dressy clothes. Today was picture day, and our class was next in line to be taken. Our teacher stalked the lunch table like a parole officer, reminding us to use our napkins, so not to get our clothes dirty. Jessica Stanley kept knocking her boney elbow into my arm every time I went to take a bite of Spaghettios. I glared until she stopped. Her daddy called her Princess every time he dropped her off at school, and boy, did she act like one. Today she came to school in a frilly pink dress with a sparkly pair of shoes and matching tiara. But when Alice Brandon showed up that morning wearing a simple, light blue dress with white ribbons, Jessica was jealous. Alice's looked very pretty with her long black hair and big blue eyes. I looked down at myself with a frown. My mother had to fight me into an ugly purple dress with ruffles, then she tamed my cloud of curly hair with barrettes. I looked like a French-poodle! I leaned around Jessica and her boney elbow, wishing I could be more like Alice. She was perfectly at ease in her blue dress, smiling to herself and sipping delicately at her milk whereas I was slopping Spaghettios down my chin. Our teacher got called away, leaving us alone long enough for Jessica to strike. Your dress is ugly, she hissed jealously at Alice, then picked up her spoon and splatted the blue dress with orange pasta. Alice let out a gasp of shock, staring at Jessica with wide, wounded eyes. Why did you do that? She demanded, tearing up. Because you're not a princess. I am! The kids around us erupted in laughter, pleasing Jessica. I watched the two of them like a tennis match, waiting to see if Alice would retaliate. It's what I'd do. But Alice didn't. She stood up with dignity and ran for the bathroom, crying. I didn't really know how to react. Alice wasn't my friend, but being raised by a policeman I had a deeply engrained sense of right and wrong, and what Jessica did to Alice was just plain wrong. Knowing what had to be done, I stood up, raised my tray over Jessica's stupid head, and dumped it. She cried out in surprise as Spaghettios slimed down over her hair, the round macaroni bits plopping on the shoulders of her pink, puffy dress. My classmates burst into riotous laughter. Our teacher spotted the commotion from across the room and came rushing over. She took in the horrific sight and cried out, Isabella Swan, what have you done?! I told her why I did it, but she didn't want to hear it. She pointed imperiously to the principal's office, giving me my marching orders. Oh well, I thought. At least The Princess didn't get away with being a bully this time. On my way to the front office I spotted Alice swiping at the red stain on her dress with a napkin. We caught each other's eye and she grinned tearfully. She must have seen what I did. I nodded and proceeded to march to the front office with a big, goofy grin on my face, mighty pleased with myself. From that moment on Alice and I were best friends, and Jessica… well, let's just say she never forgave me, which was just fine with me.

We made our way past the gas station, waved to a few people we knew from school and then made our way past the post office. The flower Shop had a few customers inside the greenhouse, ordering autumn arrangements in pretty, crystal vases. Even outside you could smell the sweet floral fragrance. The local diner was getting ready for the Tuesday dinner rush, Angela Weber, a friend who waitressed there, waved at us through the big window pane.

We finally strolled past the last stop-sign in town, and made our way on to Route 9 where it led straight up the mountain, to Newtons Orchard.

The climb was steady and arduous.

"So," Alice huffed as we stepped onto the soft shoulder of the road, allowing cars drive by. "Want to explain to me why you want a soul-sucking job."

"I want some Christmas money this year," I easily explained. "I'm tired of begging my parents for a hand out, only to give them gifts they essentially bought themselves. Kind of lame don't you think?"

She bit her lip, contemplating what I said. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

I could tell she'd never given it a single thought. To rich people, money was no big deal, a thing that was never mentioned in polite society. But for the rest of us Joe-Shmoe's, money was the number one topic of complaint and frustration.

After a minute of silent trudging she said, "Hey, maybe they'll hire me too?"

It was my turn to be surprised.

"Really?" I asked, astonished. "I always thought your first job would be at the Mall or something, where the best boutiques are."

"Yeah, me too," she admitted. "But it won't be any fun if you're not there to make fun of the Hot Dog guy from the food court."

I barked a loud laugh, thinking of the poor guy in that awful Hot Dog costume handing out fliers to Weiner World.

"Hey, do you remember when that old lady's dog peed on his leg?"

Alice looked up at the sky and laughed.

"Oh yeah, I forgot that!" She laughed. "He kicked the poor dog, then the old lady hit him over the head with her huge purse!"

I was doubled over laughing.

"And remember how… how he fell over?"

Alice nodded, tears in her eyes. "He couldn't get up because of the bulky costume!"

We laughed for the next five minutes, unable to stop. Just when we got ourselves under control we'd glance at one another and lose it all over again.

"Oh my God," Alice breathed, face beet red. "I wish I had a cell phone back then. It would have gone viral!"

Together, we giggled our way out of town limits.

It took a lot of energy to trudge up the foot of the mountain, and by the time we reached our destination we were huffing and puffing.

"Oh, thank god," gasped Alice, bent over and bracing her hands on her knees.

There was an opening in the dense woods, a path that cut straight to the orchard. It was a short cut only us locals used, and cars blew right past; suckers.

"Looks like this is the place," I panted.

"Ugh," Alice complained, looking up at the towering trees and rocky mountain top. "I hate the woods. You never know what's in there."

"It's the fastest way to the Orchard," I said. "Besides, you didn't have to come."

"Yeah, I know. But it was either that or go home to my crazy, ranting mother."

I rolled my eyes. Her mother wasn't that bad.

"Look, are you coming or what?" I asked.

"Fine," she sighed unhappily. "But if I get eaten by a bobcat I'm haunting your ass."

I snorted, and stepped into the woods edge.

Together we pushed aside a heavy tree branch and stepped into the hidden path beyond. Stretched out before us was a narrow dirt path, filled with mist, tree roots and squashy green moss. It looked like a place where fairies and gnomes lived.

The dense trees caged us in on both sides, but it opened-up just enough for the golden sunlight to filter down through leafy canape, dappling the trail with soft shafts of Autumn light. The scent of wet tree sap was strong and bitter, tickling my nostrils.

I looked up in wonderment. Papery leaves floated down around us in tight spirals and wayward loops. I held out a hand as a red maple leaf fell gently into my palm.

"Nature is so beautiful," I said in a hushed, reverent tone.I brought the leaf to my nose and breathed in the sharp, sweet scent; nutty and earthy.

"Blech," Alice grouched. "I hate nature. Especially leaves."

"Really?" I asked, rearing back and kicking a pile into the air. "I love them."

"Stop it," she cried, holding her hands up to protect her face. "They ruin perfectly good shoes."

I turned to see her shaking wet leaves from her feet with a sneer of disgust.

"You know you can always replace them, Al. They're just shoes."

Her head snapped up, eyes widening in horror. "Replace them?" she cried. "I can't just replace these!"

I frowned. "Why not?"

"Because, they're a birthday gift from my father!"

I held up my hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"No, it's not just that, Bella. You don't understand." She shook her head, looking frustrated. "Then again why would you."

I immediately understood. They were expensive name-brand.

"No," I snarked, rolling my eyes. "That wasn't insulting at all."

"Bella, these are $1,200 Alexander Wang shoes. Top of the line."

My mouth fell, open.

"Holy shit, Al," I blurted, staring at the suede shoes with horror.

She nodded. "Exactly."

I shook my head, aghast at her families ridiculous spending habit. Then again, where I find beauty in nature, Alice finds beauty in fashion. And though I can't even begin to understand the comparison, it didn't matter. That's what made us individuals.

"You know, you belong in Los Angeles," I smirked. "Not New England."

"Tell me about it," she muttered darkly, skittering around a patch of squashy green moss. "All this Fall kitsch is killing me," she complained once safely away from the offending parasite.

"Do you know," she went on. "… that mom just spent the entire week decorating dad's office?" I shook my head no.

Her laugh was bitter. "What a waste of time."

Her father was the Governor of New Hampshire, and he often conducted interviews from his lush office in expensive suits and silk ties, especially since he was now running for Senate. It must be where she got her neurotic fashion sense. No father in his right mind would give his daughter several credit cards the way he did. Frankly it made Alice a bit snobbish. But you love your friends, faults and all.

"Anyway," she said, unaware of my critical judgment. "Dad was being interviewed by NBC about the election this November, and one of mom's stupid motion operated skeletons went off in the background, cackling every time one of them moved. Dad was mortified, but couldn't do anything about it, seeing as it was a live interview."

I bit my lip, to keep from laughing. God, I wish I'd seen that.

"Needless to say," she sighed. "He ordered mom to take it all down, saying it was embarrassingly unprofessional. I agreed. But it turned into a huge fight."

"That's why she was in such a bad mood this morning?" I asked. Alice nodded. And yet you still didn't do what she asked, I thought incredulously.

Honestly, I felt bad that neither Marie's husband or daughter appreciated her. They both ordered her around, like the help. I swear, one of these days Mrs. Brandon's going to snap and leave them high and dry… not that they'd notice.

Maybe I should run a few tins over to her tonight. Mom has some spares she can have.

Alice interrupted my musings with a loud squeak. A wet leaf slapped her in the face. "Stupid nature!"

"Alice," I chuckled. "You do realize that working at Newton's Orchard will be like, your worst nightmare, right?" I waved to her outfit. "You couldn't wear anything you own. Especially those shoes."

"I know," she said unhappily. "But what's the sense of me hanging around town, waiting for you to come back? I'll be bored."

"Well, I'm sorry for inconveniencing you."

She ignored my snark. Lately my patience with Alice was running thin, and I didn't know why. She's always been like this. Maybe it was me that was changing?

"I mean, I may as well hang out with you here," she continued. "Besides, how bad can farm life be? All you do is pick stupid Apples off a tree. That's not hard."

I wasn't sure I wanted Alice to get a job here. I loved everything about this farm, and she'd just bitch about it the entire time, ruining it for me. Then again, maybe I was being selfish.

All the same, I had to at least try to dissuade her.

"Not if they don't assign you apple picking," I pointed out. "Mister Newton could easily decide to place you in the pumpkin patch with all the screaming kids. Or put you on hay wagon duty. Then again, he could land you with the farm animals, where you'd have to clean out their pens and feed them."

My words had the effect I was hoping for. Her expression went from blasé to dubious. I waited for her to admit this was a bad idea when a loud male shout made us cry with fright. It came from further down the long path, sending both Alice and I staggering back over a tree root. I caught her thin arm before she fell to her bum. Scrambling upright, we turned to see who had called to us.

A tall, dark figure materialized out of the misty fog at the far end of the path, and my heart jumped when the familiar face came in to view…

"Jacob!" I called in relief, waving.

He raised his hand in greeting and jogged down the path toward us with a big smile. He was wearing an open, blue flannel shirt and white t-shirt beneath, a pair of worn jeans and scuffed work boots. His black hair was a bit long and in need of a haircut, curling cutely around the beanie hat on his head. Oh yes, Jacob was very good looking, especially with his russet skin and Native American features. Most girls fawned over him at school… including Alice.

Jacob's eyes immediately sought out Bella, glancing right over Alice. She sighed in annoyance, already feeling like the third wheel. He'd always had a crush on Bella, to which she was completely clueless. Alice didn't understand why he liked her, not that Bella wasn't pretty, but in Alice's opinion she was prettier than Bella, not to mention more interesting. At least she tried to look feminine. It was infuriating, and admittedly she was jealous of her best friend.

Unfortunately, it made her lash out.

"Nice phone," Alice said with a judgmental leer.

He distractedly looked down at his hand and flushed when he realized she was talking about his old, battered Android.

"Oh, this?" He pocketed it quickly, earning a warning look from me.

Why was Alice being so mean? She knew he didn't have much. Jacob lost his mother to cancer a few years ago, leaving him alone to take care of his wheelchair-bound father. He worked so hard just to make ends meet, though Billy made sure Jacob had time to be a teenager. He was the high school quarterback, made good grades and was popular. It was one of the things she liked best about Jacob, his optimism in the face of adversity.

"It was my dad's old phone," he shrugged.

Alice snorted. "An Obama, phone? Seriously? I heard my dad talking about those. They're phones for people who can't affor…

Cutting Alice off, Jacob turned to me and asked, "So, what are you up to?"

"Rude much?" Alice muttered under her breath.

We ignored her.

"I have an interview with Mister Newton today."

His brown eyes lit up. "You're seeking employment?" I nodded. "Sweet." I grinned, and fist bumped him.

"At least you don't think I'm crazy for wanting a job." I threw Alice a look. She frowned and turned away, arms folded.

"When's the interview?" he asked.

"It's in… "I checked my phone for the time. 3:46. "Oh crap! I've gotta go! I'm gonna be late!"

I took off running, kicking up leaves in my wake.

"Jacob cupped his hands and called, "Good luck!" I waved without turning back, my hair flying out behind me.

"Bella, wait!" Alice called in annoyance. She tried running after her, but her shoes kept slipping on wet leaves, threatening to twist her ankles.

She stopped and balled her fists.

"Fine!" she shouted. "Forget all about me. See if I care!"

She turned back toward Jacob, eyes glittering angrily. He was standing there, watching her with uncomfortable indecision on his face. She figured she'd take advantage of having Jacob alone, for once. She looped her arm through his, feeling a wealth of muscle beneath her hand, and smiled like a purring cat. He returned the smile with confusion and lead her down the path.

"So," she asked conversationally. "What were you doing at the orchard, Jacob?"

"Oh, um, applying for a job."

"But I thought you were working at the grocery store."

"I am. But it wouldn't hurt to get a second job, you know, pay the bills?" Alice nodded like she understood, but truth be told she didn't have a clue. Her dad took care of all of that. Besides, she was positive she spent more money in a month than Jacob earned in an entire year. Silence mushroomed around them as the truth sank in, and in that atmosphere of awkwardness, they walked back toward town, not having anything to say.

I didn't realize I ditched Alice until I broke through the other side of the path and asked, "Do you want me to ask Mr. Newton if there are any positions avail… able?"

I blinked, backtracking a few feet. Did I accidentally outrun her?

I lifted the tree branch to the entrance of the path that I just burst out of, and found no one was there. The path was completely empty except for a few rays of sunshine poking through the tree-tops, a misty fog rolling down the path toward her.

Eerie, I thought.

"Alice? Jacob?" I called.

Nothing.

A cool wind blew across my bewildered face as I stared down the long, increasingly dark tunnel.

Being cursed with an over active imagination I recalled the Sleepy Hollow legend.

Midnight was quickly approaching in the little Dutch town in New York. It was All Hallows Eve in Sleepy Hollow, and Ichabod Crane had been enjoying an evening of merriment. He felt satisfied in the knowledge that he'd worked hard to court his sweetheart, Katrina VanTassle. He dazzled her with dancing and clever conversation, poetry and tantalizing stories of life in New York City. She laughed and held his arm as they turned about the room, making him feel more confident than perhaps he ought to be. He even got an introduction with her wealthy father. Ichabod felt he had planted the seeds of successfully winning Katrina's hand. All was well, he thought, until that dunderhead, Bram Bones began spinning scary tales of the Headless Horseman, gaining Katrina's attention. Weary of the arduous evening Ichabod decided to take his leave. Truth be told, he was a bit drunk on spirits, fattened by good food and slow to go home. With no one mastering the horse it trudged down the path at a lazy, wayward trot. Ichabod's inebriated imagination began to run wild as the dark forest closed in around him, Terry Town but a pin prick behind him. The feeling of being watched grew stronger and stronger, the moon slipping behind clouds, giving off no light. Frightened, he lashed the sleepy horse's rump until it snorted and picked up pace. His imagination was obviously running wild, Bram's idiotic ghost story sloshing through his impaired mind. Being an educated man, he tried to bolster his confidence with logic. There was no such thing as monsters, he chastised himself. Only children believed in such nonsense. But being in the dark, dense woods… he gulped, his Adams-apple jumping… it certainly had a way of changing a man's perspective. Besides, the wine he had sampled throughout the night dissolved his logic into fizzing giggles, the sound carrying on the wind. That was when he heard a echoing clop-clop, clop-clop, clop-clop of horse hooves. The rhythmic trot he thought belonging to his own horse was now galloping at a quick pace… unlike his own sleepy mayer. Realizing that it was indeed another rider, he twisted to look over his shoulder to see who his midnight companion was, glad for the distraction. That's when he saw it, the Headless Horseman thundering toward him on a large black steed, a sword aflame with fire in his hand. The blood slithered from his face and a spine-tingling scream bubbled to his lips. He snapped the horse's reigns and kicked him in the ribs with his heels. Move you cursed donkey, move! The horse snorted awake, startled, and took off running, his hooves digging into the dirt. A hellish laugh echoed through the woods, tearing another scream from Ichabod. Together they raced through the dark woods like two men in a steeple chase, slipping under low branches and leaping over creeks. The Horseman's sword of fire swished and sliced at his neck, but Ichabod leaned flat against the horse's back, narrowly escaping decapitation. Ichabod thought all was lost… until a faint light at the end of the path came into view. There's the bridge, boy! Hee-ya! Hee-ya! He encouraged the horse with renewed lashes, twisting to see if they'd lost the demon. They had not. He and the horse dashed toward the bridge, the Horseman nipping at his heels. Ichabod laughed triumphantly when his horse's hooves clomped along the wooden bridge, for he heard that the Horseman cannot cross the bridge because it was blessed by clergyman. Apparently, he was misinformed. Without warning, the Horseman struck, taking Ichabod's head clean off his shoulders with one slice of his sword, the decapitated appendage spinning like a child's top. His expression was frozen in surprise, mouth and eyes wide open. His tall, stork-like body slid sideways off the horse, crashing to the ground. It freed the spooked horse to run to safety. Next day, a local farmer found the horse grazing his crops. Upon closer inspection, the poor animals tail had been cruely bobbed, left bloody and festering. The man inquired to whom the animal belonged, and Bram Bones recognized it as Ichabod Cranes flea-bitten mayer. Sadly, the horse's owner was never found, only his blue tricorn hat halfway down the Hollow's path. It was given to a tearful Katrina. Something terrible had befallen her Ichabod, and she would never see him again. The legend of the Headless Horseman was told throughout Sleepy Hollow for years afterward, reminding others not to follow in the poor school-master's footsteps, for Ichabod's ghost was damned to wander the cursed path for eternity. Mwahahahahaha!

"Yep," Bella said, as she turned to jog through the rows of Apple trees. "I'm never taking that path again."

The farm was a sprawling expanse of rolling green hills, tall corn stalks, pumpkin patches and a beautiful red barn filled with livestock. But I always liked the old-fashioned farm house and gift shop the best. It was white and had green trim with green shutters, a wrap-around porch and flowers hanging from hooks; green gables, she secretly called it. There were orange pumpkins lining the steps, and I realized… this is my dream house. Even the surrounding white mountains provided the perfect back drop.

I dashed past the antique, faded red Chevy truck sitting in the Newton's personal drive way. I'd seen them driving it around town, the back of the pick-up truck full of bagged feed or farm supplies. I admired it, thinking it had more character than anything new and environmentally friendly.

"You like the truck?"

I spun around, embarrassed at being caught ogling the Newton's property. It was Mrs. Newton, herself! She had curly, graying hair and happy blue eyes.

I relaxed and smiled, climbing the steps toward her. "Mrs. Newton. You startled me."

She grinned, her eyes crinkling. "I do apologize, dear."

"It's alright. And yes, I've always loved that truck." I glanced over my shoulder at it. "It has character, like it has a lifetime of stories to tell."

She nodded, considering my words. "You're right. It has all that and then some."

She peered closer at me, newly interested in whatever she saw.

"If you don't mind me saying," she said. "You're very observant for your age."

I snorted delicately, shoving my hands in my sweater pockets. "My mom says I was born thirty." That made her laugh, her head tilting toward the sky.

"Your sour expression tells me you're not taking it as the compliment it was intended."

I shrugged. "Perhaps. But there's got to be a better way to tell someone they have an old soul."

"You're right," she chuckled. "Old soul definitely sounds better."

"Hey, is Mr. Newton around? I have an interview with him at four."

"Oh!" She jumped, looking over her shoulder toward the house. "You must be the one he's waiting for."

"Yes, that would be me."

"Well, he's just inside the kitchen, dear," she pointed at a screen door.

I nodded and blew out a nervous breath. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Bella. And good luck."

Caroline Newton watched Isabella go inside the house with an amused grin. She always liked Charlie and Renee's girl very much, and she hoped Arthur, her husband, would be perceptive enough to see in her, what she did. She'd work exceptionally well with customers. She was well mannered, polite and had a good personality.

Yes, she'd fit in well.

"Isabella," called Mister Newton from the kitchen table. He beckoned her inside with a wave of his hand. "Come in, come in. Have a seat."

The kitchen smelled of fresh coffee, toast, and something sweet. Cinnamon or ginger perhaps. It was a heady combination and I took an appreciative sniff.

"Mmm," I said, unable to help myself. "Something smells good."

He smiled and nodded to a tin on the table. It was full of fresh gingerbread cookies. "The wife baked some cookies for the applicants. Have one if you like. Oh, and there's coffee or water on the cupboard."

I touched my stomach. "No thanks, Mister Newton. I'm so nervous that if I put anything in my mouth I may leave you with an everlasting impression."

He laughed, reaching for a stack of papers. "Then let's get started, shall we?" I nodded and cleared my throat.

"So," he said, not wasting time. "Isabella Swan is your name, correct. Charlie's daughter?"

"Yes, sir. But I prefer to be called Bella."

He wrote that down, his blue eyes crinkling behind his gold rimmed glasses. "Bella," he said, looking up. "Can you tell me why you chose to apply for a job here?"

A million answers flooded my mind, but I chose to go with the simple explanation. Besides, Mister Newton struck me as a 'get to the point' kind of guy.

"I love this farm," I said simply. "I've always wanted to work here, ever since I was a child. I have always appreciated the way you and your family have maintained it and kept it alive, as a real working farm. It's Americana, you know? Work the land, the way God intended." I folded my hands and blushed. I didn't often reveal my feelings to anyone outside of my grandma, and she's gone now, so...

I swallowed and pushed on.

"I also believe that it's important to support local businesses. And this farm, in all honesty, is the only reason this community thrives. And well…" I smiled shyly, tucking my long hair behind my ear. "It's beautiful. I just love it and would be honored to work here."

He looked up from the paper he was writing on and smiled. "Why thank you, Bella. I'm pleased that someone your age appreciates the work it takes to run this farm. It's hard, back breaking work."

"Oh, I know," I nodded sagely. "I already planned on buying myself some Ben Gay if I get the job."

He threw his head back and laughed. "My medicine cabinet is stocked with the stuff. Smells God awful but works miracles."

I giggled, relaxing. He seemed easy to get along with.

"Well, the positions still available are..." He picked up his notebook and peered down at it. "… Apple pickers, working the pumpkin patch, running the wagon rides, and cashier for the gift shop, which also includes cleaning and stocking."

He set the notebook aside. "So, which position are you interested in?"

"Oh," I blinked, jumping right into it. "Um, I'll do anything you need, except the wagon rides. I have no clue how to drive a car let alone a wagon." He nodded, checking off my answers.

"Any previous employers I can contact for references?"

I blushed deeply, rubbing my hands nervously on my jeans. This was what I was afraid of.

"No, sir. This would be my first job. I turned sixteen last week."

"Really?" he asked with surprise. I looked down, ashamed for some reason. I think he read my embarrassment.

"Now, now," he said kindly. "A lot of kids come through here seeking their first job, and we're honored to employ anyone willing to work hard." My eyes met his and I nodded, grateful for his understanding.

He took a breath and sat back, looking over the information he took down.

"Well, I'm happy here if you are. You seem like a nice young woman willing to learn and work hard. So, if you agree we can start training this Saturday, at eight in the morning?"

I sat up straight like a pleased puppy dog with a wagging tail. "Yes, definitely!" I swiftly agreed. "That sounds fantastic!"

"Great," he said, reaching across the table and shaking my hand. "Welcome to the Newton family."

"Thanks," I said, my voice breathy with excitement. I did it. I got a job!

He rifled through a stack of papers and handed me a few sheets. "This is for your personal information and W2's."

"Wow," I gushed, wide eyed. "I'm going to have to file for taxes this year." I really was growing up.

He chuckled darkly, filling in his areas on the papers. "You'll soon realize that's not a fun thing, honey."

"Oh," I blushed, feeling stupid. "I didn't mean to say that aloud." My brain to mouth filter must have shorted out.

"That's alright," he smiled. "So, when you're done with those you can hand these back to Caroline, okay?" I nodded, taking his pen.

Before he got up he said, "We didn't discuss your wages."

I blinked, not thinking about that. "Oh, okay."

"We start new hires off at minimum wage. That's $9.25 an hour. You'll be part time, I assume, because of school hours?"

"Yes," I nodded. "I'll be able to work weekends and after school hours."

He nodded, satisfied. "That's good. You can work out a schedule this Saturday with Caroline."

"Sounds good, Mister Newton. And thank you. I'm really excited."

He smiled down at me and made his way to the door. "I'm glad to hear it, Bella. I'll see you Saturday."

"Yes, sir."

He left me alone to fill out my personal information; social security number, date of birth, address and all that.

Mrs. Newton soon came inside with a bright smile. "You got the job, I hear."

"Yes, ma'am," I smiled. "I'm so happy."

She handed me a couple red polo shirts. I looked closer and saw it had the Newtons gold, Orchard logo on the breast.

I looked up at her questioningly. "These are short sleeved. Isn't it going to be cold out in the fields?"

She shook her head. "Oh no. You'd be surprised how hot you get under the direct sun all day, even in the Fall. But if you get cold you can always wear your sweater. It's darling."

"Thank you," I said, looking down and smoothing the soft blue yarn beneath my fingers. "My grandma made it for me."

"Yes," she said sadly. "I heard about her passing. My condolences."

I smiled sadly, feeling the quake in my heart every time someone said that. "Thank you."

She said no more about it, sensing my grief and leaving me to finish the paper work. I stood up from the table and snatched a ginger bread cookie, taking a swift bite.

"All done," I announced around a mouth full of cookie.

She smiled, taking it and adding it to a small pile on the counter top.

"Not a very big pile," she observed dubiously. "Seems you, Mike and Jacob are the only ones he liked today."

My eyes snapped to hers. "Jacob? Jacob Black?"

"Yes." She tilted her head and examined my surprised expression. "Do you know him?"

"Yeah," I said incredulously. "He's one of my best friends."

"Oh, well that's wonderful! He can show you the ropes on Saturday."

As I left Newtons Orchard with mom's bag of apples I wondered why I was annoyed at the prospect of working with Jacob. I mean, I loved Jake. He was my best friend. But why didn't he tell me he was reapplying, or that he was hired when I told him I was applying too? I thought things were going good at the grocery store. In his own words, it's blissfully air-conditioned and pays well. So then, why?

Avoiding the spooky path in the woods I chose to walk along the shoulder of the main road back toward town. It was very dangerous to walk down the tight mountainous road like this, and by the time the tenth car wooshed past me at fifty miles per hour I began to wish I'd taken the stupid path, imagination be damned.

I went to pull the cell phone from my pocket when my dad's cruiser pulled up beside me, police scanner murmuring in the background.

"Bella," he snapped. "What the Hell are you doing this far outside of town?"

I leaned down into the open passenger window. "I just had a job interview at Newtons Orchard. Just got my first job!" I proudly held up my uniform shirts.

His anger morphed into pleasant surprise. "Well, how about that?!"

I smiled and climbed into the passenger seat, buckling in. "Take me home, Charlie. And don't spare the horses." He chuckled, pulling out into the road. His mom used to say that, and it made his heart ache.

He missed her.

Bella reminded him so much of his mother. They're both independent women and didn't wait for permission to do what they wanted. For instance, Bella getting a job. He had no idea that she was even considering employment. She's still so young. But she just went ahead and did it anyway, just like his mother, Mary, would have.

He grinned to himself, immensely proud. Mom would be proud too.

"So," he said, glancing at me behind his aviator sunglasses. "Why didn't you take the path back in to town? It's so much safer than taking this god forsaken mountain road. You know accidents happen here all the time."

I bit my lip, feeling embarrassed. "Yeah, I know. But I, um…" I shook my head, going red. "Never mind. It's stupid."

He furrowed his dark brows. "What's stupid?"

I blew out a gusty breath, mortified at how silly this was going to sound. "Alice and Jacob were with me on the path this afternoon, and when I realized I was running late for the interview I ditched them and ran ahead. When I reached the farm, I turned around to see if they were coming, but they were gone." I held up my hands and shrugged. "Just disappeared."

He fixed me with a concerned look. "Were they okay? Did you think to call them?"

"I was just about to when you pulled up."

"Well I'm sure they're fine," he said, turning down the road toward town. "But that still doesn't answer why you didn't take the path home?"

I felt my face warm further.

"It spooked me, alright? Staring down in to that long, misty dark tunnel reminded me of the story, Sleepy Hollow." I shivered, recalling the headless horseman.

He stiffened, thinking about what I just said… then threw his head back and laughed.

"Oh my God, Bells. Your mother's right. You do have an overactive imagination."

Snickering he shook his head. "Priceless."

Chagrined, I turned my head just in time to see the local cemetery whiz past. Grandma is in there, next to Grandpa and a few relatives I never met. I fisted the soft, blue yarn in my hands and felt my heart pinch.

I missed talking to her.

She always told me the best stories of being a flight attendant back in the sixties and seventies, how everyone dressed up in their best suits and dresses just to fly. It was considered a privilege, something high-end, unlike todays TSA nightmare. She traveled all over the world and took pictures of the Louvre and Eifel Tower, Big Ben and Buckingham Palace, The Swiss Alps and Hawaiian volcanoes, the Hollywood sign and California surfers.

The list went on and on.

I flipped through her old photographs when she was sick in the hospital, dreaming of following in her footsteps, perhaps see the amazing things she's seen in her life, to taste fine French food in a Parisian café and sip cappuccinos in Rome, or skipping down Main Street at Disney Land with Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck. But she told me from her hospital bed, while looking through the photobook with me, that her greatest adventure of all was falling in love with Grandpa and settling down to start a family. She said that me and Charlie were her greatest achievements in life, and that she'd trade all the adventures in that book just to be with us one more day. I cried like a baby, clinging to the blue sweater she knitted for me as a surprise. Tears of grief were infused in this sweater. She passed away that night, not leaving anything unsaid. She loved us, and that was all that mattered.

Our last conversation stayed with me for a long, long time, helping me transition into a world that didn't have her in it. It took some getting used to, but it also made me appreciate the smaller things in life, like my family and the close-knit community I grew up in. I can always travel and see exotic cities and have my own adventures… but home is where the heart is. That's what Grandma wanted me to know, that I belong here and was a product of hard working parent's and good values.

Happiness isn't a ghost you chase, she said. Happiness is living in the moment, and appreciating what you have.

An unexpected idea sprung to mind.

"Hey, dad?"

"Yeah?" he said, pulling in to our driveway.

"What happened to Grandma's old camera?"

He looked surprised by the question. "I'm not entirely sure. Most likely it's in that garage, packed away somewhere."

He glanced out the windshield at the garage door. "I haven't been able to get to her stuff because of work."

A slow frown revealed his guilt.

"Mom said something like that that earlier," I said, changing the painful subject.

His head whipped in my direction. "She did?"

"Yep. Fall cleaning is in our near future."

"Aww, crap," he bemoaned. "She's going to ride me about that garage tonight. I just know it."

"Well, I got the full brunt of it this afternoon. So, tag… you're it."

He nodded heavily, and climbed out, grumbling under his breath.

"Thanks for the warning, Bells," he said at the porch. "And congratulations. I'm proud of you."

I smiled, clutching my new work shirts. "Thanks, dad."

I pulled my phone from my pocket, the motion light popping on over the garage. It was getting dark out, the quarter moon hanging low in the sky. We were close to a harvest moon, a giant, low hanging orange orb in the star-strewn sky. A few more weeks and it will be here, signifying the Autumn Solstice. Already the moon was bigger than usual, white and cratered in the early evening sky. It was rumored that a harvest moon will make animals and people a little extra crazy. Just ask the ER on those nights. They swear by it.

"Hey, do you mind if I call Jacob before I come in for dinner?" I asked. "I just want to make sure he and Alice didn't get eaten by a bob cat or something."

He nodded, climbing the porch steps with mom's apples in his arm. "Or get caught by the Headless Horseman."

I smacked his arm. "Not funny, old man."

Chuckling, he opened the front door. The scent of baked ham wafted out onto the porch. Just then Shaggy dashed up the porch and shot through dad's legs and into the house, the lore of ham scraps too enticing to pass up.

"Just be quick about it," he said through the screen door. "Dinner smells ready."

"I will."

Charlie went inside, leaving me on the front porch. I sat down on the top step and dialed Jacobs number. It rang and rang, his voice mail picking up: Hey, this is Jacob. Sorry I'm not around right now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. BEEP!

"Dammit." I hung up.

This time I dialed Alice and got the same result. Hey this is Alice. Leave a message. BEEP!

I hung up and texted her instead.

BS: Where the Hell are you? You disappeared on me at the Orchard. Call me, please, so I know you're not dead in a ditch somewhere.

I got up and paced the drive way, tapping the phone to my chin.

"Think, Bella, think." Where would those two have gone?

I gasped. "That's right! Jacob's working tonight!"

Without a second thought I tore aside the fence gate and dashed down the street. Ignoring the Halloween extravaganza next door, I made my way down Jefferson Street and took a short cut through the cluster of doctor offices. Out of breath, I burst out from the brick buildings and into the brightly lit parking lot of our local grocery store. I made a mad dash through the motion operated doors and ran headfirst into something solid, falling backward onto my, rear-end.

I gasped, feeling jarred.

"Oooowwww!"

"Oh my God!" A male voice spoke from somewhere above me. "Are you alright?"

My ass!

A large hand appeared just under my nose, making me go cross eyed.

I glanced up at the tall dark shape hovering above me.

"Err, yeah," I nodded, taking inventory. "I think so."

In all honesty, I felt winded and my tailbone hurt, but I refused to admit it. I was embarrassed enough without revealing that I may have broken my butt.

I took his outstretched hand, and he hoisted me upward like I weighed nothing.

"I'm terribly sorry," I apologized, trying to steady myself.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not okay," I straightened my sweater., flustered "I just barreled into you like a ram."

He snickered, shuffling his heavy grocery bag into his other hand. "I promise you, I'm fine. Stop worrying."

I nodded, though not fully believing him. He was just too polite to complain.

My embarrassment finally abated enough that I could look at the person I'd accidentally assaulted. He was a whole head taller than me and somewhere around my age. He was lanky, but not thin, the way most teenage boys looked before growing into their full potential. He had auburn hair that was closely trimmed at the sides but a bit long on the top, swiped to the side. He had a very nice face, symmetrical and strong. But it was his eyes that took me by surprise. They were clear green, like the Mediterranean ocean. I couldn't help but stare. They were, hands down, the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen in my entire life.

Oh my…

My face grew embarrassingly hot, so I let my long brown hair fall forward for a little coverage. I'd never felt so flustered in my life, and it showed. It also hadn't occurred to me that he too was taking in my features, and as a result was wearing a shy, crooked smile of attraction. A sudden sharp stab of self-consciousness made me bite my lower lip, and I looked down and away, not knowing what to do or say.

"Um," I said, shyly meeting his stunning eyes. "I guess I should go inside the store now."

He seemed to realize we were both standing in the door, and looked behind him. There was a line of people with full grocery carts waiting for us to move.

"Oh!" he gasped, jumping out of the way. I followed suit, both of us apologizing to the grumpy shoppers as they shoved past.

I looked up at him and chuckled guiltily. He laughed too, hitching his grocery bag up.

It looked heavy and I blanched, feeling bad. "I hope I didn't crush anything in your bag."

He looked down at it and said, "Nah, it's fine. My grandmother sent me out for some blueberries and cherries. She's going to make a couple pies."

"Mmm," I said, eyes wide with appreciation. "Sounds good."

He nodded with a grin. "She's an amazing cook." Recalling her existence, he said, "Oh crap! I have to get back before she thinks I got lost."

Sounds like he's not from around here.

"Oh, okay," I said, taking the hint and backing into the store.

"Hey, wait," he called, halting me in my tracks. "What's your name?"

"It's Bella. My name is Bella."

He smiled that slow crooked smile again, making my stomach flip flop. "Bella," he said in his low, male voice, watching me with those sea green eyes.

I gulped, going red again.

"What… what's your name?" I stuttered breathlessly.

"Edward," he readily answered.

I smiled and nodded politely. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Edward. But I should get going."

He sighed, looking down at his shopping bag. "Yeah, me too. I guess I'll see you round?"

I nodded and waved. "Sure. See you around."

He turned and walked stiffly into the parking lot, fumbled with his keys and climbed into a shiny silver Volvo.

Fancy, I thought. As he drove past the big window wall, our eyes fused one last time and he was gone, speeding off into the night.

I wondered… will he see me around?

Pondering this, I turned back to the cash registers, scanning the front of the busy store. Jacob was in lane 3, scanning some old ladies, cucumbers.

I gasped in relief, recalling my earlier frenzy.

"Jacob!"

He turned around and saw me walking toward him. A sunny smile bloomed across his face. "Bells. What are you doing here?"

"Don't Bells me," I chastised. His brows rose. "Where the Hell did you and Alice disappear to earlier?"

"I don't understand what you mean?"

"One second I'm running down the path toward the Orchard and the next, POOF, your both gone. Disappeared into thin air. It freaked me out."

He frowned. "We didn't go anywhere. Alice decided to walk back toward town with me."

"Really?" Kind of anti-climactic. "That's it?"

"I guess the heavy mist must have been too thick for you to see us," he concluded with a shrug of his shoulders.

I flushed slightly, remembering the spooky, misty path.

"Yeah, well, I thought something bad happened to you guys."

He pulled a face while scanning cinnamon raisin bagels, the bar codes bleeping loudly.

"Like what?" he asked, confused.

I threw my hands up and plopped them back down onto my hips. "I don't know, Jake? All I know is looking down that long, dark, misty path reminded me of the Headless Horseman story. All I could think about was that giant black horse appearing out of the mist and hearing that menacing laugh." I shivered. "I couldn't even use the path going back home afterward."

Jacob stared at me, as if waiting for me to say just kidding…. But I didn't. I was completely sincere.

He blinked, lips twitching… then he threw his head back and roared with laughter, the sound drowning out the stores music. Heads turned to see what was so funny, and I grimaced, feeling like an idiot. Even the old lady tittered behind her wrinkly hand, watching me with amusement.

"Yeah, well, laugh all you want," I snapped in reaction. "But you scared the crap out of me, Jacob." I smacked his arm. "Don't do that again."

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry," he apologized with twinkling eyes, chuckles slipping out here and there. "I won't do it again. Scouts honor."

"You were never a Scout."

"I'm an Indian. I'm a natural born Scout." I shook my head and grumbled about someone not being as funny as they think they are. He heard and grinned, amused.

"Hey, how'd the interview go?" he asked, nearly finished with the ladies, purchases. I decided to be productive and help bag it.

I smiled, lifting a bag into her cart. "I got the job!"

"Hey, how about that!" He high fived me. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," I smiled. "Oh, hey, I start Saturday at eight, and Mrs. Newton said you're going to train me."

He blinked, looking surprised. "I am?"

"That's what she said."

Then a thought came to me…

"Hey, why didn't you tell me you were reapplying? I thought you were happy here?"

The color in his russet skin deepening. "I am."

"Then why…

"It never hurts to have some extra cash." He cut me off impatiently, leaving me with a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach, eyebrows pulling together.

"Hey," I said unsure. "Are you and Billy alright?"

He stabbed a few keys on the cash register with unnecessary roughness, and said, "Your total is $46.52." I waited for an answer, but he didn't say anything. Hell, he didn't even look at me.

The lady pulled her checkbook from her huge pocketbook and scrawled out the amount. I watched in confusion. Has no one told her about ATM's?

Jacob took my distraction to bag the rest of her groceries in brooding silence, his brows pulled together. He knew I was waiting for an answer, but wasn't about to be forthcoming.

When the check was processed, and the receipt loudly printed out, he smiled and said, "Thank you for shopping with us today, Mrs. Dahl."

"No, thank you," she said, pocketing the receipt and pushing her loaded cart around me. I skipped out of the way. "This was most entertaining. I'll have something to tell the girls at Bridge tomorrow."

She shuffled down the aisle, still chuckling out loud about headless horsemen.

"Shouldn't you offer to help her?" I asked, watching her go out the exit door. "She's barely taller than the cart."

"Nah," he said, waving off my concern. "She's in here every week, and refuses help. Trust me, I try."

I snickered through my nose, then my phone went off.

"Crap. It's mom." Jacob made a yikes face, as his next customer unloaded their cart.

I stepped away from them and answered. "Hello?"

"Isabella, where are you? Your father said you were on the porch, then I go out to announce dinner was ready and you're gone."

"I know, mom," I said in, a rush. "I'm sorry. I ran to the grocery store. I'll explain when I get home. I'm on my way now. See you in a minute."

I hung up before she could argue.

"Trouble at home?" he asked, ringing up a guy with a fussy toddler.

"No," I shook my head, pocketing the phone. "But I do need to head home."

He nodded, ringing up a box of Cherrios and blueberry Poptarts. "I'll call you tomorrow."

With a parting smile I dashed back out the way I came in, recalling the handsome, green eyed boy I accidentally attacked. Wish I knew who his grandmother was. Perhaps I knew her.

I jogged back home with a smile on my face and a new sense of responsibility weighing me down, but it was a good weight. I had a job.

Just as my feet climbed the front porch of my house, my phone went off in my back pocket.

I sigh-growled. "Hello?"

"Hey, Bells," chimed Alice.

"Alice!" I cried, relieved to hear her voice.

She chuckled. "I hear you think I'm dead."

I rolled my eyes. "No, I was just worried because you didn't follow me to the farm. You and Jacob disappeared on me."

"Yeah," she said inattentively. I could tell she was doing something. Voices were hollering in the background. Her parents must be fighting again. "I decided I didn't want to work there after all."

"Oh," I said casually, though feeling relief. Then I felt guilty for feeling said relief. Did that make me a bad friend?

"Plus, I got to enjoy some time alone with Jacob." Under her breath she added, "For a switch."

I scowled. What did she mean by that?

"Well, I'm glad you're okay then."

"I am perfectly fine."

Is it me or was something off with her?

"Hey, Al?" I asked. "Are you okay? You sound… I don't know, offish."

There was the slightest hesitation, then she said, "No, I'm fine. Hey," she said before I could push the subject. "Before we hang up, I need to tell you that I won't be at school this week."

"What? Why?"

"Dad dropped a bomb on us tonight and announced that he has some campaigning to do in Washington DC."

"Yeah, so. Can't he go alone?"

She sighed. "No. He wants the whole family there for Photo ops and press. You know, keep up the impression that he's father and husband of the year."

"Alice, if you need an excuse to bow out, you can always stay with me. My mom and dad could call your dad."

"No, no," she said.

The shouting suddenly got louder. "Jesus Christ," she muttered.

She must have gotten up and closed the door, cutting the sound off.

"So, yeah, thanks," she said. "But I need to go for the photo shoot."

I nodded, though she didn't see.

"I'll collect your homework than."

Alice loved attention and taking selfies, but she was in the middle of a marital hurricane. I felt bad.

"Thanks," she said distractedly.

"Al, would you like to stay the night?" I offered. "My parents wouldn't mind."

She was quiet for a second, the said in a sardonic tone, "You heard that, huh?"

I smirked. "I'd have to be an eighty-year-old with a Bell-Tone not to have heard."

She sighed heavily. "Mom's really upset with him this time. He was supposed to give us notice when we had to travel, and well, he sprung this on us at the last minute."

"I can see how that would be upsetting. Especially with your mom's job and your school."

"Exactly," she said. "He suggested that she quit teaching and basically follow him around like a good politician's wife."

"Did he actually say that to her?"

"Not in those exact words," she admitted. "But the meaning was there."

"Oh, Al. I'm sorry," I breathed, feeling protective of my friend. "Are you sure you don't want to stay with me? I'll let you go through my closet, explain to me why my fashion sense is so abysmal. And I won't even bite your head off."

She snickered. "As tempting as that is we're flying out tomorrow afternoon. So, I need to stay home and pack."

"Okay," I sighed, giving up. "Just remember to take pictures of D.C. for me."

"Bella, I'm gonna be stuck in the hotel the entire time."

"Oh," I said. "Well, that sucks."

She snorted. "You're telling me."

"Well, if you do sneak out, and you will, cause your Alice Brandon, Bad-Ass…" she chuckled, which made me happy. "Snap a few for Instagram. I'm living vicariously through you."

"Okay, okay," she chuckled. "And thanks for the offer, Bells."

"You're welcome."

"See you next Sunday."

"See ya."

I hung up and pocketed my phone.

Emotionally exhausted, I pushed open the front door and slipped into the kitchen where mom and dad were sitting at the table together, eating in silence.

I slid into my seat with a sheepish grin.

Dad had a hunched, grumpy expression as he stabbed at his carrots. Mom must have told him about her extensive fall cleaning plans. Poor guy. Wait, what am I saying? Poor me! I'm a victim here too.

Speaking of mom, she was starring daggers at me, chewing her food. She swallowed and wiped her mouth with a napkin before saying, "What happened to being gone for only a few hours?"

Before I could answer Shaggy butted me in the shin with his fluffy yellow head, looking for a handout.

Meow, he begged.

I sliced off a piece of ham and dropped it to the floor.

"Do not feed the cat from the table," mom snapped. "He's learning some very bad habits from you."

"I'm sorry," I apologized, though I really wasn't. Shaggy could eat my scraps all he liked. I scratched his ears, feeling his contented purr through my fingertips.

She pursed her lips disapprovingly.

"Look, mom," I sighed. "I was just excited about getting the job at the Orchard, and I wanted to tell Jacob and Alice. That's all."

A little lie never hurt, grandma always said.

"I would have liked to know as well," she said, looking hurt. "I was nervous the entire time."

"She's not lying" dad said, joining the conversation. "She practically attacked me when I told her you were outside."

Her hazel eyes narrowed. "I did not attack you."

"Mhm," he grunted, eyeing her with amused brown eyes.

I frowned, looking between them. Maybe the Harvest moon was a bit early this year. Everyone's bickering.

I reached out and touched her arm. "I shouldn't have over looked you in my excitement, and I'm sorry."

She visibly softened and grinned ruefully. "Apology accepted."

I smiled, satisfied, and tucked in to my meal.

Mom sat back in her chair and said, "I'm just glad that Mister Newton hired you."

"Me too," I agreed.

"If he didn't," dad said. "I would have gone up the farm and confronted him. No one snubs my girl," he grinned at me.

Mom gently snorted. "You would not have done any such thing."

"No, I wouldn't have," he agreed. "But I would have let the air out of his tires."

I laughed. "Very mature, dad."

Smiling, mom sat back in her seat and said, "Now, tell me all about your new job. Don't leave out any detail."

I launched into my tale with gusto, telling her who said what and the people I met at the farm. I even told her about my scary moment with the path. Mom laughed loudly at that, but I purposely left out Edward, the hot stranger that I ran in to.

I sighed.

If only he was from around here…

After dinner, I slowly climbed the stairs, tired and stiff. That trudge up the mountain had done me in. I stripped out of my clothes and took a hot shower, massaging my muscles with apple scented body wash. Feeling much calmer and less like a knotted pretzel, I jumped into bed, tired from the productive day. I got comfortable and thought about today's exciting events until my brain slowly shut off. The last thing on my mind, just before I fell asleep was the handsome boy with the gorgeous green eyes and killer smile…

The next few days, I got back in to the rhythm of school, missing Alice and her ever-snarky company. She usually kept me on my toes, but this week I fell into a depressing rut without her at my side. I'd wake up, get dressed, eat breakfast, walk to school, sit through classes, meet Jacob for lunch, then I'd stay after school to watch his football practice before he left for work at the grocery store.

Now I understood Alice's comment about boredom when I go to work after school. Without Alice… I had nothing else to do but homework, talk to mom and dad and periodically check Alice's Instagram account for pictures of D.C. So far, she'd posted only one picture, and that was of a view of the National Mall from her hotel room. It was rather sad, and it left me concerned about her being alone with her bickering parents. I had a bad feeling divorce was coming for the Brandon's, and like any approaching storm you prepare for the worst. If it came down to that, I'd be there for my friend no matter what, even if it was just to listen.

The one exciting thing to happen this week was from the town council, of all things. This year, the town council, in its infinite wisdom, gave their blessing for a Zombie run. What's a zombie run, you ask? A charity race where everyone runs through an obstacle and dashes for the finish line while trying to avoid getting caught by zombies.

I'd seen it on YouTube and it looked like a blast!

The best part is, the winner of the race gets to pick the charity of their choosing and gets all the money donated in their name. The prize was $1,000. I know it doesn't sound like a lot, but it is a for a tiny town our size.

"I can't believe they approved the charity run!" Jacob crowed, jogging backwards in the school halls. He was dressed in full football gear, minus the cleats and helmet.

I grinned up at him. "I know. It's going to be awesome."

"So, are you going to run?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. But I need to train. I have no idea how running five miles is going to affect my body." If that trek up the mountain was any indication I was in for a painful surprise.

Jacob's eyes brightened. "Hey, let's train together!"

I paused at my locker and opened it, rooting around for my American History book. There was a test tomorrow on the battle of Bunker Hill, and I was going to fail in spectacular fashion if I didn't study.

"Well," I sighed. "It'd be nice to use the school track for something other than half-assing laps in gym." Jacob chuckled. "So, yeah, let's do it."

"Awesome."

He leaned against the locker next to mine, strong arms folded casually and looking dangerously like a male model in Football Weekly.

"Hey, Lucky 13!" Tyler Crowley called down the hallway. Jakes football number was 13.

Jacob leaned forward from the locker and looked down the hall. "Yeah?"

"Coach says stop flirting with Bella and move your ass. You're late for practice."

I rolled my eyes, but Jacob looked annoyed and embarrassed, his brown eyes shooting to mine and away.

"Come on," Josh Ryan called, his voice echoing through the empty hallway. "Move your ass, Black."

"Watch your language, Mister Ryan."

The boys startled and spun around. Mr. Banner was exiting his classroom with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, his expression pinched with irritation.

"Sorry, Mr. B."

"Yeah," Tyler chuckled. "Coach told us say it."

Mr. Banner gave the football players a disapproving look, and they scattered toward the exit door, cleats scratching the waxed floors.

"That means you too, Mister Black," Mr. Banner said. "I'm sure Miss Swan has somewhere more thrilling to be, other than the school hallway."

"I do, actually," I admitted, closing my locker. "I have to go home and study for a history test." I punched the air. "Yay, me."

"Sarcasm aside," said Mr. Banner. "I'm glad you're taking your education seriously. But let's get a move on, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

Jacob waved as he backed toward the exit. "I'll see you tomorrow, Bells."

"See ya."

I turned to walk down the hall when Jacob called out to me.

"Hey, Bella?"

I spun back around.

"Yeah?"

He bit his lip, hesitating. "Umm… never mind."

I lifted a brow.

"You know, that's the third time you've done that today."

"Done what?" he asked, the picture of guilt.

I snickered and shook my head. "You are such a bad liar, Jake."

"I am not," he grumbled.

"Yes," I said with an amused smile. "You are. Now I have to go."

"Oh, and Jacob?" I called. He back tracked, eyes wide and expectant. "When you decide to tell me what it is that you've been trying to say, call me." He opened his mouth, but nothing came forth.

I laughed, shaking my head and pushed through the exit door. I heard his growl of frustration when the school doors closed behind me. My friend was being a moron, and it was funny.

It was a cold fall day outside, the kind that I truly enjoyed. The sky was light gray with heavy clouds; I could smell a touch of snow in the air. Seems I'm going to have to dig out my winter gear sooner than later. I snuggled into my blue sweater and started walking home, taking deep breaths. When I looked across the road, Mr. Newton was driving up the school's entrance in his antique, faded red truck, looking like the ghost of another time.

He spotted me and cheerily waved.

"Miss Swan," he called out the passenger window. "You haven't happened to see my handsome grandson hanging around, have you?"

I nodded and threw my thumb over my shoulder. "He's out on the football field."

"Shoot," he hissed, slapping the steering wheel.

"Do you want me to go get him?" I offered.

"No, honey," he shook his head. "You don't need to be running my errands."

"I really don't mind, Mr. Newton," I insisted. "I was just back there anyway."

"Well…" he deliberated, looking unsure. "I suppose if you don't mind."

"I don't mind," I smiled reassuringly. "I'll be right back."

I spun on my heel and jogged back through the doors.

"Miss Swan?" Mr. Banner called when I dashed past him and a few other teachers loitering in the hallway; hypocrite. "I thought I told you to go home if you don't have any after school activities."

"Can't talk," I answered. "Helping Mr. Newton out."

Ignoring my Biology teacher's censure, I jogged out onto the field by the bleachers and waved at a cluster of football players.

Spotting my key target, I called, "Mike, Hey, Mike!"

He was in the center of a football huddle and straightened up, glancing my way. His teammates guffawed and slapped Mike on the shoulder pads. He took his helmet off and was wearing a wide, cocky grin.

"What's going on?!" Coach Muller yelled, clip board in hand.

"Mike!" I called with a wave to come to me. "I need to talk to you!"

"Hold on, Bella," he called back. "I'm coming." I nodded and waved, unaware of his intended male innuendo, which of course earned him laughter. Jacob reached out and roughly pushed Mike in the chest pad, a warning look telling Mike he overstepped.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Relax, Black. I was just kidding."

"Don't ever talk about Bella like that again," he warned with another shove. "Understand?"

Mike held up his hands defensively.

"Geese. Okay, okay." He turned to leave before Jacob had anything more to say.

This was perfect, he thought as he ran, ignoring Coach's expression of indignation. I was just telling the guys how I'm going to take Bella to Prom. Now I can get time with her alone to ask. Seal the deal. I've always thought Bella was cute, but over the summer she filled out in all the right places.

As Mike jogged over to Bella on the sidelines he was keenly aware of Jessica glaring daggers at him on the opposite side of the field. She was with her cheer squad, still seething from their break-up.

Whatever, he thought. I've moved on. You should too.

"Hey," he smiled wide, blue eyes happy as he approached. "What's up?"

He reached out and touched my lower back with his hand. I thought it was weird since he was so close to my ass, but chose to allow it, accepting the intimate contact as a friendly gesture. Later I would learn that I should not have. "Your grandfather is out front in his truck, looking for you."

"Oh!" He looked surprised, glancing toward the front of the school. "Must be about my relatives. A bunch of them are coming in from all over this week."

I nodded and turned to walk away, hitching my heavy bag over my shoulder. "Well, see you later."

"Hey, wait!" He ran up beside me with a conversational smile, dashing my hopes of escaping. "I'll walk with you."

I had no choice but to fall in step with him. We crossed the school yard together and I could feel everyone's eyes on us as we walked away. I looked over my shoulder and saw Jake and Jessica watching with matching frowns. It felt incredibly awkward, though Mike looked completely at ease. I took an extra step away, just to give us distance.

"So," Mike said cheerfully. "You going to do the zombie run?"

"Yep."

"Great! Me too."

"Jacob and I are going to train together."

"So," Mike said, blue eyes carefully watching me. "Are you and Jacob, like, a thing?"

Crap, crap, double crap!

"No, Mike," I said measuredly, worried about this thread of conversation. "We're just friends."

He nodded, looking serious but pleased.

"It's just that... well, you two are always together, and none of us could tell if it's platonic or not. And Jacob; Jesus," he rolled his eyes. "… he gets so pissy when any of us ask if you're available."

I stopped walking, taking in what he just said.

"Wait a minute," I reached out and grabbed his arm. He paused and turned toward me.

"What?"

I narrowed my eyes, suspicious, yet curious. "What guys are you talking about?"

His exppresion shifted, humor lighting his eyes. He was enjoying toying with mine and Jacob's relationship.

"Oh no," he grinned teasingly. "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

"Mike!" I swatted his arm, laughing. "Come on."

"Nope," he smiled, delighted. "I'm not going to rat out my friends."

"Fine," I said, walking again. "But why is everyone asking Jacob for permission to date me?" That's just weird.

"Because," he shrugged, nonplussed. "They know they have to go through him to get to you. It's always been the unwritten rule."

"Ts-ha!" I gasped, appauled and horrified. "What the hell makes you think that Jacob has the right to Lord over my love-life?"

"I don't know," he shrugged innocently. "But like I said, no one knows if you're a couple or not, so, you can see our conundrum."

I scoffed, rhetorically asking, "Why does everyone our age think that platonic relationships are impossible?"

"Because they are," he answered.

"Not true."

"For guys, it is."

"That's because all of you think with your little head, and not that one." I motioned to his skull.

"Bella," he snickered. "If the guy's friend is hot, like you, then I guarantee he thinks about getting you in pants."

I felt sudden revulsion. Did he mean Jacob thinks that way about me? Lord, I hoped not. And did Mike just call me hot?

"Well," I nervously cleared my throat, feeling unsettled. "Put an end to the rumor, please. Jacob and I are just friends and nothing more."

Mike nodded, grinning to himself.

I'm glad I tipped Bella off, he thought. Jacob has been holding us off for years. She deserves to have a love-life outside of him and his delusional fantasies.

We finally rounded the corner of the two-story school building and saw his grandfather, waiting. He was leaning against the bed of his red truck, flicking what looked like bread crumbs to a gaggle of birds at his feet.

I smirked. You couldn't take the farmer out of him, no matter where he was.

"Ah, Mike!" He straightened up and shooed the birds away. They chirped indignantly and took flight. "There you are. I was beginning to get worried you got lost."

"We were just talking," he explained, grinning at me.

Mister Newton nodded, turning to me. "Thank you for fetching him, Bella. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Mr. Newton," I said. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Mike. Have a good day, Mr. Newton."

"Bella, wait," Mike called, hand outstretched.

I clenched my fists in frustration and turned on the balls of my feet. "Yeah?"

"Can we talk?" he asked. "Tomorrow, after school?"

I searched my mind for an excuse to say no. Mr. Newton was looking between us with suspicion. I think he understood what was going on, and it embarrassed me.

"Jacob and I are training for the Zombie run tomorrow, on the school track," I relented, not knowing what else to say.

Okay," he said cheery. "I'll meet you there." I smiled and nodded, a sense of dread filling me.

Jacob's going to kill me.

Before he stopped me with any more uncomfortable questions I jogged off school property, feeling two sets of eyes on my back.

Good God, what have I done?

I avoided Jacob most of the day, dodging him when I saw his tall figure cutting a path through the crowded halls. The conversation between me and Mike swam in my mind. It was irritating and I couldn't concentrate.

By the time the last bell rang, I knew I had no more excuses to ignore him.

Marching out onto the field, I spotted him stretching by the bleachers, totally unaware that I knew about his dirty little secret. And in all honesty, I wasn't ready to bring it up. Not until I was certain I had control of my own feelings.

"Hey," he smiled, standing upright. "There you are."

I nodded, avoiding eye contact and setting my backpack on the bench. I felt ten shades of awkward.

He frowned, but shrugged off my odd behavior.

"So, are you ready for this?" Jacob asked, jogging in place with a big grin.

I nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be."

He clapped his big hands together, leading me to the start line.

"On three," he said, leaning out to run. "One, two...

"Wait!" someone called.

We both looked around to find Mike jogging toward us in net shorts and a t-shirt.

"Oh, crap," I hissed. "I hoped he had forgotten."

"Forgotten what?" Jake asked.

"I um, kind of told Mike to meet me here."

Jacob looked confused and annoyed.

"Why?"

"Umm…" I turned red, embarrassed. "I ah…

"Oh God," Jacob said, comprehending. "You didn't invite him to train with us, did you?"

"In my defense, I panicked."

"Panicked about what?"

I shot Mike a look over my shoulder. He was close, so I rushed through the sentence.

"Mike wanted to talk to me. He had that look in his eye, so I asked him to meet me here, because you were here, as a buffer. You know, if he tries to ask me out again."

Jacob froze, looking suspicious.

"What? You mean he asked you out?"

I nodded.

"Hey," Mike panted, stopping right behind us. We both startled and jumped.Could it be more obvious that we were talking about him?

"I thought you might have forgotten about meeting me," he confessed. I grinned, feeling Jacob's scalding anger directed at me.

Well excuse me, I thought, staring angrily back. I can't shake this guy. He's like a bad cold.

"Nope," I said aloud. "We were waiting for you."

Mike's gaze swept over Jacob, considering his options, seeing as he wasn't going anywhere any time soon. It was obvious in his rigid, unwelcoming stance.

Turning back to Bella, he said with charm, "Can we talk while we run? Alone?"

Oh no. No, no, no, no.

"Umm, I guess it's alright." I deferred to Jacob. "If it's alright with you?"

Say no, my eyes beseeched.

His shoulders shrugged in quick irritation. "Whatever, let's just start."

Traitor!

He angrily ignored me, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. The only one happy was Mike.

"So, what do we do?" I asked. "Just run?"

"That was the plan," Jacob said grumpily, eyes shooting to Mike. "But now, who cares."

Mike elbowed me with incredulity. "Cheery, isn't he."

Jacob threw him a nasty look, in which Mike ignored.

"Can we just get on with it?" I sighed.

"Of course," Mike said happily. "We need to see how far we can go before dropping."

I nodded ominously, not liking the word dropping. It implied I was going to be pushed to my physical limits, and I am no athlete.

"Ready," Mike said, grinning excitedly.

"Let's do it," I said.

"Go!"

Jacob took off at a long-legged sprint, leaving me in the dust. I watched him run with an annoyed sense of awe and irritation.

"Show off," I muttered.

I heard him laugh, sprinting ahead like a cheetah.

After a minute of silent running, I began to calm and set into the rhythm of the task ahead. My mind quieted and focused.

"You seem happy now," Mike commented, jogging lazily beside me.

"I'm excited about the run," I shrugged. "It sounds like fun."

"I still can't believe this town is doing something updated and fun," he admitted.

I laughed. "I know, right? But I do love the Fall Festival, so that placates me."

"You do?" he asked, eyebrow quirked. "It's for little kids and parents."

"Autumns my favorite time of year," I explained with an unapologetic shrug. "Perfect weather, good food, apple picking, beautiful leaves, trick or treaters, football... it's part of our identity as a town."

He thought about what I said, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he conceded. "Fall is when our community comes together."

"Exactly," I gesticulated.

"You're, kind of a romantic, aren't you?" he teased, blue eyes glinting.

I eyed him uncomfortably. "I suppose you could say that."

"It's good to know."

Oh Mike…

Five more minutes passed as Mike and I made our way around the track, panting heavily. I was a wash of sweat. Mike, I noticed with some embarrassment, wasn't huffing and puffing the way I was. Truly, it was humiliating.

Stupid athletes.

And Jacob, that jerk, was way ahead of me, sprinting with no trouble at all, leaving me behind with chatty, attentive Mike Newton. I suppose this was my punishment. I asked him to join us, so I get to entertain him.

My thighs were beginning to burn and cramp the longer I ran, my ankles taking on the shock of my heavy footfalls. I was completely winded, not able to answer Mike when he asked me a question. All I could do was grimace and nod. There's no way I'm going to be conditioned for a stupid 5k run by next weekend. Perhaps I can be one of the zombie catchers instead.

"The dance is coming up," Mike said, finally broaching the subject.

My pounding heart leapt in my throat. "Yeah," I panted. "It is."

"You going with anyone?" His eyes flicked to Jacob across the track and back.

"No."

"Oh," he said with a casual nod. "Well then, maybe you and I…

"Hey?" I said over him. "What happened between you and Jessica?"

He frowned, successfully distracted.

"I don't know. Things were great for a while, I guess. We had a lot of fun together." I bet you did. "But then she started nagging the hell out of me, like a wife. It was becoming too much work. So, I ended it."

Typical, I thought. She wanted something serious and he just wanted the benefits.

"That's too bad," I said sincerely.

"I just got tired of her, you know? As cruel as that sounds."

"I'd like to say I'm surprised," I smirked. "But well, it's Jessica."

"Right?" he snorted, good mood returning.

He watched me jog for a few minutes then said, "So, Bella…"

My stomach clenched.

"I suppose you've noticed me trying to ask you something the last few days."

I sighed and nodded, wishing he could read my less-than-thrilled expression.

"I wasn't sure you did, because well, you always have someone hanging around."

I glanced around the track for one of those interruptions now. Jacob was sprinting in long confident strides, oblivious to my psychic call for help. S.O.S., you fool! S.O.S.

I clenched my fists and decided to take the bull by the horns.

"Look, Mike," I gasped, out of breath. "We've been friends a long time, and I like you, but only as..." My toe caught on the rough terrain and I pitched forward, skidding across the ground on my stomach.

"GAH!" I gasped, wind knocked out of me.

"Bella!" Mike cried, skidding to a stop and dropping down beside me. "Holy shit, are you okay?"

I was splayed out, face down on the ground. "No, I'm not okay!" You idiot!

"Here." He offered me his hand. I rolled over, groaned and took it, climbing shakily to my feet. He held me tight to his side until I got my breath back. I took quick inventory of my extremities and was relieved to find nothing broken or twisted. Well, except the angry red scrapes on my palms.

Ow…

Embarrassment started to settle in, blood rising to my cheeks. "I can't believe I just did that."

Mike's lips quivered, fruitlessly trying to contain his amusement. It didn't last long.

"Dude, you totally wiped out!" he laughed, red faced. "I mean, woosh… " He made a falling gesture.

I huffed, clutching my stomach. "Don't laugh at me. This hurts."

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, blue eyes twinkling. "But you are a notorious klutz, Bella. Like in third grade when you slipped on the ice during recess and twisted your ankle. Or the time in sixth grade when you tried to make a basket in gym and it rebounded off the rim, hitting you in the forehead…"

"Alright, alright!" I held up my scraped hands. "You made your point. I am hopelessly accident prone."

"Yes, you are," he snickered. "And it's endearing."

"Endearing to you, painful to me."

"True," he grinned.

"Besides, I don't want to relive my past humiliations, so if you don't mind…"

I turned and started to jog again, but my body had other ideas. I groaned and stopped, my ribs and legs aching.

"Hey, hey, hey," Mike said, catching up and smoothing his hand down my back. "I thought you said you weren't hurt."

I stepped out of his touch. "I'm not, but my skeleton got rattled."

I'd like to rattle your skeleton, he thought, eyes sliding over her form.

Mike took my arm. "Here, let me at least help you to the bleachers."

"No," I stepped out of his touch.

"Look, I'm sorry, Bella," he apologized in a huff. "I shouldn't have laughed at you."

"No, you shouldn't have."

She is so damn cute when her dander is up, he thought, admiring her flushed cheeks and pretty, brown eyes. It only made him want her more.

Jacob must have witnessed my latest accident because he cut across the track, catching up to me with an alarmed expression.

"Hey, are you okay?" he demanded, taking hold of my arm. "I saw you wipe out from across the way."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I grumbled, letting Jacob help me. "Just tripped."

Mike chuckled, looking down at me again.

Jacob threw him a look of irritation. "Don't laugh at her."

He was un-phased by Jacob's warning. "At least she made it two miles before tripping."

"Two miles?!" I cried indignantly. "It feels like I ran ten!"

Mike threw his head back and laughed. "Oh, Bella… you're definitely not an athlete."

"I never claimed to be," I snapped.

"No," he grinned knowingly. "You're a romantic." I blushed, looking down and away, wishing he'd stop.

Jacob was sick of Mike and his nonsense. Besides, he knew his duty as her best friend; take care of Bella. Whether she admits it or not, she was hurt.

"How about we cool down over there," Jacob suggested, a worried furrow to his brow as I limped off the track. My right calf muscle hurt. I must have pulled it.

"I suggest we meet back here tomorrow," I said, taking a seat on the bottom bleacher.

"Are you sure," Jacob asked, unsure. "I don't want you to push it."

"I'm fine," I insisted. He pursed his lips, knowing I was lying.

"Maybe you should sit this run out, Bella," Mike suggested. "Watch from the sidelines?"

"The world needs cheerleaders too," Jacob agreed.

"Both of you," I growled, rubbing my forehead. "I am fine, so stop."

"You are not fine," Jacob argued.

Mike clapped his hands together, startling me. "Then it's a date. You will sit on the bleachers while Jacob and I train tomorrow."

"Excuse me?" Jacob asked, incredulous.

"What?" Mike said defensively. "We're both running the marathon and need to train. It's no big deal. As a matter of fact, I was going to invite more of the guys. They're running too."

This is turning into a whole thing that was intended to be a private project between Jacob and I. And from the angry, stiff look on Jacob's face, he agreed that this was entirely my fault.

"Would you like a ride home?" Mike offered me.

"Umm…

"I'm bringing her home," Jacob snapped, getting angrier and angrier by the second. "Her dad's expecting me, not you, and you don't cross Chief Swan."

Mike stared hard at Jacob, something passing between them. Jacob stood his ground, jaw clenched, fists curled. Mike just shook his head and turned to walk away, muttering asshole under his breath. Jacob's dark expression clearly said, that's right! Walk away, bitch!

Bella's got to get rid of her guard dog, Mike thought of Jacob as he walked toward the parking lot. There was no privacy with him always around. I must make her aware of his feelings, to cause a rift between them; it's the only way.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Bella," he called over his shoulder.

"Bye," I called back.

When he was out of sight, Jacob turned to me with a distracted air. "Come on," he grumbled, taking my arm and slowly leading me back to his truck.

It was a quiet ride home. Tension mushroomed around us as we silently contemplated what just transpired. I felt guilty for some reason, and it pissed me off. I'm not some little kid that's done something wrong. I had a persistent admirer. How was that my fault? And Jacob, he should just man up and tell me why that angers him so much, and why guys go to him for permission to date me.

It all pissed me off.

As we pulled in to my drive way, Jacob asked, "Is Mike bothering you?"

I sighed, looking over at him.

"You know he is. But I'm not sure he realizes it. You know how Mike is; totally oblivious."

"Oh, he knows what he's doing alright," he muttered.

"Word of advice," Jacob said from the driver's seat as I unbuckled. "Blow off anything he says. Avoid hanging out with him altogether. He's a player, Bella. Don't trust him."

I frowned. "I know that. I'm not stupid."

He nodded, satisfied but still upset.

"Besides," I said. "I certainly don't want to give him any reason to think that I'm interested. I mean, I don't want to lead him on."

"Good," was his clipped response, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

He was having a hard time reeling in his feelings, whatever they are. Was it directed at me or Mike, I wondered. Perhaps both?

Tired and sore, I climbed out of his old pick-up truck with a parting wave. He put the truck in reverse and backed out. As I wobbled unsteadily toward the porch, listening to his tires crunch over the gravel, I thought about Jacob's confusing behavior. I mean, I know he was only trying to protect me from getting hurt, but he was coming on a bit strong… like a jealous boyfriend.

The word landed with brute force, echoing through my mind. Boyfriend... boyfriend... boyfriend... Unnerved by this analysis, I turned to watch him drive back up the street.

My eyes lifted to the churning sky above. Dark, foreboding clouds were closing in overhead, bringing with it gusty winds and kicking up a tornado of fallen leaves. I stood like a pillar against the wind, leaves buffeting about my body, my hair writhing like ribbons caught in a breeze.

Stand firm, girl, I felt my grandmother whisper from beyond. A storm is a comin'.