Thursdays Make It All Better

(2) Bang

**BANG**

Almost as quickly as the noise resonated through the house, I was off and running towards the kitchen.

I surveyed the damage. By my account he broke at least ten dishes. What the fuck?

"What the hell happened, Jacob?" I wasn't quite screaming. My voice sounded something like the whistle of a steam engine, high and shrill. I stood over a pile of broken glass on my kitchen floor and a stumbling Jacob bent over it.

"I am so sorry!" he answered, seemingly terrified by my initial reaction. He was sweeping the pieces up onto a cardboard pizza box.

"Charlie is going to kill me," I moaned.

"I'm sorry," Jacob repeated.

I could see that he was, in fact, very sorry. His face was twisted up in a pained expression. He reminded me of dog that just got hit with a rolled up newspaper for being bad and peeing on the rug. I think if Jacob had a tail it would have been tucked up between his legs. I wanted desperately to make him feel better, now that the shock was worn off.

"Don't worry, it was an accident. Actually my dad probably won't even notice. He never cooks. Besides, we only ever really use two dishes at once, but goddamnit we better not up and throw a party anytime soon."

I reached down to help him pick up the scattered glass and of course the first piece I touched gashed into my palm. I saw a cut forming in the top layers of my skin. I stared intensely at my hand, waiting for the first drop of blood to come to the surface. There was none. Apparently the glass didn't go deep enough.

I had an instant flashback to that day- the paper cut. If only my skin was so cooperative then. If a shard of glass could lightly graze my skin and not do any damage, then why the hell couldn't a little piece of paper do the same? The answer was simple. I was the most unlucky person in the world.

I couldn't dwell on my memory for too long because Jake was now standing next to me, trying to get a glimpse of my palm.

"What happened? Did you cut yourself?"

"Kind of. Not really, it looks okay."

"You don't have to help me clean, it's completely my fault- I'll take care of it."

"I don't mind, really. Two people can get it done much faster than one." I searched for the dust pan and found it next to the fridge. I quickly started gathering pieces and sweeping them up. Then I realized that I never found out what the cause of this mess was.

"So, what the hell did happen in here? I'm a clumsy person myself but I don't think I've ever broken a whole dinette set," I joked to lighten the mood.

"I feel stupid telling you now," Jacob replied, looking down shyly.

"Tell me," I prodded.

"I was trying to get to that vase," he said, pointing up at a clear blue flowery vase in the open cupboard that I recognized immediately. My mother bought it at a yard sale and I think we used it a total of two times before it ended up in the back of the top cabinet to accumulate dust.

"Oh. What for?" I asked, although I pretty much knew what vases were for.

"I picked these wildflowers from this little field near my house," he whispered, reaching over to the table to retrieve a paper bag. He opened it and pulled out a small bunch of purple and yellow flowers. "I thought you would like them, and I wanted to cheer you up after all those trips to the hospital and all the bangs to the head, that I feel are partially my fault for being so reckless with you."

I had another flashback. I could clearly see the meadow Edward took me to, the colorful flowers everywhere. I could almost hear the bubbling stream. The longing ache returned in the pit of my stomach. I was sure Jacob hadn't intended to cause me pain, so I knew I couldn't let it show. It wasn't fair.

"They're beautiful, Jake. Thank you, that was really nice of you."

"Yeah, but I messed it up by breaking all these dishes. I thought for sure I was tall enough to get to that vase."

"You are pretty tall," I exclaimed, shocked that he couldn't reach. I walked over and stood in front of his body to further prove the point, "look."

"Yeah, I'm like a whole foot over you," he laughed, holding the flowers from stem to bud over my head to measure the difference between us. The aroma of the freshly cut flowers traveled down to my nose. I couldn't help but smile at the goofy grin on Jacob's face.

I realized that I kept finding it easier and easier to push past the hurt and memories that seemed to haunt me so often. Jacob was the key. I couldn't hold on to the pain long enough for it to matter with him around -maybe because I didn't want him to see me as zombie Bella. I wanted him to enjoy his time with me.

I lived for the visions of Edward that were somehow granted to me in the face of danger, but that was the crazy part of me. That was the broken down, tattered Bella. While I couldn't make her go away completely- I probably never would- I could stifle her down to the pit of my stomach at will when it was time to be Jacob's friend. I knew how to hold myself together for Jacob, and sometimes, he held me together all on his own.

I abruptly noticed that I was so deep in thought that I was actually standing like a statue in front of Jacob for god knows how long.

I adjusted my eyes and looked into his to see if I'd inadvertently ticked him off by retreating into my head.

Surprisingly his eyes weren't looking back at me, they were looking down. I followed his gaze as best as I could, and came to the conclusion that he was staring at my mouth. I could only pray that he didn't think my silence was a signal for him to kiss me.

I held my stance only a second longer to take in the vision of Jacob, possibly pre-kiss. He was strikingly handsome like this, close and warm and open.

Then I knew I had to end this self made stand off.

"So," I smiled for show, incase he was looking, and twisted my head towards the cabinets again. "We're almost done cleaning up. You want to try to ride the bikes again today?"

Jacob quickly recovered from his own dazed state and I could feel his stare turn towards me. "Sure."

I watched him walk away, place the flowers down on the table, scoop up the last few shards of glass and dump them in the trashcan.

"You think you can get to that vase now that those pesky dishes are out of the way?" I asked.

"Hell yeah," he answered cockily. He walked back to the cabinets, did a half jump and snatched up the vase before I could say 'be careful'.

"See, I don't know what happened before," he said, handing me the vase.

I walked to the sink and began to fill it with water. "I don't know. Maybe my unluckiness rubbed off on you."

"I don't think that's it. Most of the time I feel really lucky when I'm around you."

I smiled at him, and he smiled back. As I turned and retrieved the flowers from the table and began strategically placing them in the vase, I smiled even wider.

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated.