Dying Doesn't Seem So Cruel

"How do you feel?"

I shrugged. "So-so. Better than yesterday."

"That's good," Esme gushed, and Edward laughed. "What's so funny?"

"It's Saturday, Dahlia."

"I slept through yesterday?"

"Yes."

"Is Emmett hunting again?"

"No. He's working on the car."

I nodded and took a sip of my orange juice. "I'm going home today."

"Why?"

"I kind of miss my parents."

"We're going hunting so Emmett will have to take you."

"Okay."

"Don't get too lonely," Alice sang as they exited the house.

"Joy, joy," I muttered. "A house to myself."

I sat at the piano and stared at the keys, before realising I needed to get dressed. My clothes were still lying on Emmett's chair; I grabbed my jeans and slid them on. His t-shirt was warm and comfortable, so I left it on. Besides, he'd said I could keep it, right? Right. After pulling my shoes onto my feet, I walked outside, across the yard, and into the garage.

"Hey."

Emmett glanced up at me. "Where is your jacket, young lady?"

"I don't have one with me."

"Get mine from the backseat."

"I'm fine."

"Humour me."

I sighed but did as he told me to do. Immediately, warmth engulfed me, and I walked over to stand behind him. The muscles in his arms and back tensed; he quit moving.

"Dahlia. . ."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Let's get you home."

"How. . .?"

"Edward told me."

I followed him to the Jeep, and he helped me to buckle me in. I could tell he wasn't breathing by his too-still shoulders. This time, he stayed at a normal speed, made no illegal U-turns, and kept his eyes on the road. I reached out and turned on the radio.

"Please understand. I'm not as strong as you think."

"I do."

We fell silent, and I could see my house nearing. He slowed down and then stopped out front.

"Want your jacket back?"

"Give it to me Monday."

"Okay."

I struggled with the seat belts for a few minutes until he undid them for me. A tight grin played on his lips, but no amusement met his eyes. I rolled my own, slid out of the seat, and slammed the car door with as much strength as I could muster. He said something, but I didn't quite hear him. My father was getting ready to go fishing when I entered the house.

"Hey, Dahlia. You're home."

"Yeah. Dr. Cullen said it was a temporary bug. I'm okay now."

"That's good. When your mom gets home, tell her I went fishing, 'kay?"

"Yeah, sure."

I sighed and went up to my room. My computer was on; I plopped into the seat and loaded up the Internet. Unfortunately, there was no connection to be made. I turned around and shrieked.

"Sh. People will think you're getting murdered."

"Then don't sneak up on me, Alice."

"Emmett's sorry."

"I don't see why. I know it's difficult for him, or any of you, for that matter, to be around me too long."

"True. Well, when you want to come over again, call this number."

"Where are you going?"

"Shopping."

"Can I go?"

"No. It's for your birthday."

"Alice!"

With a tinkling laugh, the pixie-haired Cullen leaped like a dancer out my window and left me alone.