AT THAT MOMENT, MY HEAD BROKE THE SURFACE.

　　How disorienting. I'd been sure I was sinking.

　　The current wouldn't let up. It was slamming me against more rocks; they beat against the center of myback sharply, rhythmically, pushing the water from my lungs. It gushed out in amazing volume, absolutetorrents pouring from my mouth and nose. The salt burned and my lungs burned and my throat was toofull of water to catch a breath and the rocks were hurting my back. Somehow I stayed in one place,though the waves still heaved around me. I couldn't see anything but water everywhere, reaching for myface.

　　"Breathe!" a voice, wild with anxiety, ordered, and I felt a cruel stab of pain wher I recognized thevoice—because it wasn't Edward's.

　　I could not obey. The waterfall pouring from my mouth didn't stop long enough for me to catch a breath.

　　The black, icy water filled my chest, burning.

　　The rock smacked into my back again, right between my shoulder blades, and another volley of waterchoked its way out of my lungs.

　　"Breathe, Bella! C'mon!" Jacob begged.

　　Black spots bloomed across my vision, getting wider and wider, blocking out the light.

　　The rock struck me again.

　　The rock wasn't cold like the water; it was hot on my skin. I realized it was Jacob's hand, trying to beatthe water from my lungs. The iron bar that had dragged me from the sea was also… warm… My headwhirled, the black spots covered everything…Was I dying again, then? I didn't like it—this wasn't as good as the last time. It was only dark now,nothing worth looking at here. The sound of the crashing waves faded into the black and became a quiet,even whoosh that sounded like it was coming from the inside of my ears…"Bella?" Jacob asked, his voice still tense, but not as wild as before. "Bells, honey, can you hear me?"The contents of my head swished and rolled sickeningly, like they'd joined the rough water…"How long has she been unconscious?" someone else asked.

　　The voice that was not Jacob's shocked me, jarred me into a more focused awareness.

　　I realized that I was still. There was no tug of the current on me—the heaving was inside my head. Thesurface under me was flat and motionless. It felt grainy against my bare arms.

　　"I don't know," Jacob reported, still frantic. His voice was very close. Hands—so warm they had to behis—brushed wet hair from my cheeks. "A few minutes? It didn't take long to tow her to the beach." The quiet whooshing inside my ears was not the waves—it was the air moving in and out of my lungsagain. Each breath burned—the passageways were as raw as if I'd scrubbed them out with steel wool.

　　But I was breathing.

　　And I was freezing. A thousand sharp, icy beads were striking my face and arms, making the cold worse.

　　"She's breathing. She'll come around. We should get her out of the cold, though. I don't like the colorshe's turning…" I recognized Sam's voice this time.

　　"You think it's okay to move her?""She didn't hurt her back or anything when she fell?""I don't know."They hesitated.

　　I tried to open my eyes. It took me a minute, but then I could see the dark, purple clouds, flinging thefreezing rain down at me. "Jake?" I croaked.

　　Jacob's face blocked out the sky. "Oh!" he gasped, relief washing over his features. His eyes were wetfrom the rain. "Oh, Bella! Are you okay? Can you hear me? Do you hurt anywhere?""J-Just m-my throat," I stuttered, my lips quivering from the cold.

　　"Let's get you out of here, then," Jacob said. He slid his arms under me and lifted me without effort—likepicking up an empty box. His chest was bare and warm; he hunched his shoulders to keep the rain off ofme. My head lolled over his arm. I stared vacantly back toward the furious water, beating the sandbehindhim.

　　"You got her?" I heard Sam ask.

　　"Yeah, I'll take it from here. Get back to the hospital. I'll join you later. Thanks, Sam."My head was still rolling. None of his words sunk in at first. Sam didn't answer. There was no sound, andI wondered if he were already gone.

　　The water licked and writhed up the sand after us as Jacob carried me away, like it was angry that I'descaped. As I stared wearily, a spark of color caught my unfocused eyes—a small flash of fire wasdancing on the black water, far out in the bay. The image made no sense, and I wondered how consciousI really was. My head swirled with the memory of the black, churning water—of being so lost that Icouldn't find up or down. So lost… but somehow Jacob…"How did you find me?" I rasped.

　　"I was searching for you," he told me. He was half-jogging through the rain, up the beach toward theroad. "I followed the tire tracks to your truck, and then I heard you scream…" He shuddered. "Whywould you jump, Bella? Didn't you notice that it's turning into a hurricane out here? Couldn't you havewaited for me?" Anger filled his tone as the relief faded.

　　"Sorry," I muttered. "It was stupid.""Yeah, it was really stupid," he agreed, drops of rain shaking free of his hair as he nodded. "Look, doyou mind saving the stupid stuff for when I'm around? I won't be able to concentrate if I think you'rejumping off cliffs behind my back." "Sure," I agreed. "No problem." I sounded like a chain-smoker. I tried to clear my throat—and thenwinced; the throat-clearing felt like stabbing a knife down there. "What happened today? Did you… findher?" It was my turn to shudder, though I wasn't so cold here, right next to his ridiculous body heat.

　　Jacob shook his head. He was still more running than walking as he headed up the road to his house.

　　"No. She took off into the water—the bloodsuckers have the advantage there. That's why I racedhome—I was afraid she was going to double back swimming. You spend so much time on the beach…"He trailed off, a catch in his throat.

　　"Sam came back with you… is everyone else home, too?" I hoped they weren't still out searching for her.

　　"Yeah. Sort of."I tried to read his expression, squinting into the hammering rain. His eyes were tight with worry or pain.

　　The words that hadn't made sense before suddenly did. "You said… hospital. Before, to Sam. Issomeone hurt? Did she fight you?" My voice jumped up an octave, sounding strange with the hoarseness.

　　"No, no. When we got back, Em was waiting with the news. It's Harry Clearwater. Harry had a heartattack this morning.""Harry?" I shook my head, trying to absorb what he was staying. "Oh, no! Does Charlie know?""Yeah. He's over there, too, with my dad.""Is Harry going to be okay?"Jacob's eyes tightened again. "It doesn't look so great right now."Abruptly, I felt really sick with guilt—felt truly horrible about the brainless cliff dive. Nobody needed tobe worrying about me right now. What a stupid time to be reckless.

　　"What can I do?" I asked.

　　At that moment the rain stopped. I hadn't realized we were already back to Jacob's house until hewalked through the door. The storm pounded against the roof.

　　"You can stay here," Jacob said as he dumped me on the short couch. "I mean it—right here I'll get yousome dry clothes."I let my eyes adjust to the dark room while Jacob banged around in his bedroom. The cramped frontroom seemed so empty without Billy, almost desolate. It was strangely ominous—probably just becauseI knew where he was.

　　Jacob was back in seconds. He threw a pile of gray cotton at me. "These will be huge on you, but it's thebest I've got. I'll, er, step outside so you can change.""Don't go anywhere. I'm too tired to move yet. Just stay with me."Jacob sat on the floor next to me, his back against the couch. I wondered when he'd slept last. Helooked as exhausted as I felt.

　　He leaned his head on the cushion next to mine and yawned. "Guess I could rest for a minute…"His eyes closed. I let mine slide shut, too.

　　 Poor Harry. Poor Sue. I knew Charlie was going to be beside himself. Harry was one of his best friends.

　　Despite Jake's negative take on things, I hoped fervently that Harry would pull through. For Charlie'ssake. For Sue's and Leah's and Seth's…Billy's sofa was right next to the radiator, and I was warm now, despite my soaked clothes. My lungsached in a way that pushed me toward unconsciousness rather than keeping me awake. I wonderedvaguely if it was wrong to sleep… or was I getting drowning mixed up with concussions… ? Jacobbegan softly snoring, and the sound of it soothed like a lullaby. I fell asleep quickly.

　　For the first time in a very long time, my dream was just a normal dream. Just a blurred wanderingthrough old memories—blinding bright visions of the Phoenix sun, my mother's face, a ramshackle treehouse, a faded quilt, a wall of mirrors, a flame on the black water… I forgot each of them as soon as thepicture changed.

　　The last picture was the only one that stuck in my head. It was meaningless—just a set on a stage. Abalcony at night, a painted moon hanging in the sky. I watched the girl in her nightdress lean on the railingand talk to herself.

　　Meaningless… but when I slowly struggled back to consciousness, Juliet was on my mind.

　　Jacob was still asleep; he'd slumped down to the floor and his breathing was deep and even. The housewas darker now than before, it was black outside the window. I was stiff, but warm and almost dry. Theinside of my throat burned with every breath I took.

　　I was going to have to get up—at least to get a drink. But my body just wanted tc he here limp, to nevermove again.

　　Instead of moving, I thought about Juliet some more.

　　I wondered what she would have done if Romeo had left her, not because he was banished, but becausehe lost interests What if Rosalind had given him the time of day, and he'd changed his mind? What if,instead of marrying Juliet, he'd just disappeared?

　　I thought I knew how Juliet would feel.

　　She wouldn't go back to her old life, not really. She wouldn't ever have moved on, I was sure of that.

　　Even if she'd lived until she was old and gray, every time she closed her eyes, it would have beenRomeo's face she saw behind her lids. She would have accepted that, eventually.

　　I wondered if she would have married Paris in the end, just to please her parents, to keep the peace. No,probably not, I decided. But then, the story didn't say much about Paris. He was just a stick figure—aplaceholder, a threat, a deadline to force her hand.

　　What if there were more to Paris?

　　What if Paris had been Juliet's friend? Her very best friend? What if he was the only one she couldconfide in about the whole devastating thing with Romeo? The one person who really understood her andmade her feel halfway human again? What if he was patient and kind? What if he took care of her? Whatif Juliet knew she couldn't survive without him? What if he really loved her, and wanted her to be happy?

　　And… what if she loved Paris? Not like Romeo. Nothing like that, of course. But enough that shewanted him to be happy, too?

　　Jacob's slow, deep breathing was the only sound in the room—like a lullaby hummed to a child, like the whisper of a rocking chair, like the ticking of an old clock when you had nowhere you needed to go…Itwas the sound of comfort.

　　If Romeo was really gone, never coming back, would it have mattered whether or not Juliet had takenParis up on his offer? Maybe she should have tried to settle into the leftover scraps of life that were leftbehind. Maybe that would have been as close to happiness as she could get.

　　I sighed, and then groaned when the sigh scraped my throat. I was reading too much into the story.

　　Romeo wouldn't change his mind. That's why people still remembered his name, always twined with hers:

　　Romeo and Juliet. That's why it was a good story. "Juliet gets dumped and ends up with Paris" wouldhave never been a hit.

　　I closed my eyes and drifted again, letting my mind wander away from the stupid play I didn't want tothink about anymore. I thought about reality instead—about jumping off the cliff and what a brainlessmistake that had been. And not just the cliff, but the motorcycles and the whole irresponsible EvelKnievel bit. What if something bad happened to me? What would that do to Charlie? Harry's heartattack had pushed everything suddenly into perspective for me. Perspective that I didn't want to see,because—if I admitted to the truth of it—it would mean that I would have to change my ways. Could Ilive like that?

　　Maybe. It wouldn't be easy; in fact, it would be downright miserable to give up my hallucinations and tryto be a grown-up. But maybe I should do it. And maybe I could. If I had Jacob.

　　I couldn't make that decision right now. It hurt too much. I'd think about something else.

　　Images from my ill-considered afternoon stunt rolled through my head while I tried to come u............