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Jacob I ran my fingers across the page, feeling the dents where he had pressed the pen to the paper so hard that it had nearly broken through. I could picture him writing this — scrawling the angry letters in his rough handwriting, slashing through line after line when the words came out wrong, maybe even snapping the pen in his too-big hand; that would explain the ink splatters. I could imagine the frustration pulling his black eyebrows together and crumpling his forehead. If I'd been there, I might have laughed. Don't give yourself a brain hemorrhage, Jacob, I would have told him. Just spit it out. Laughing was the last thing I felt like doing now as I reread the words I'd already memorized. His answer to my pleading note — passed from Charlie to Billy to him, just like second grade, as he'd pointed out — was no surprise. I'd known the essence of what it would say before I'd opened it. 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I swiftly removed the lid as I spoke, poured half the sauce into a bowl, and then put the bowl inside the microwave and the jar back in the fridge; I fixed the time and pressed start. Charlie watched my adjustments with pursed lips. "Did I get the noodles right?" I looked in the pan on the stove — the source of the smell that had alerted me. "Stirring helps," I said mildly. I found <a href="http://hospital.99mr.com/shanghaixujianweizhengxin"><strong>上海整形美 容</strong></a> a spoon and tried to de-clump the mushy hunk that was scalded to the bottom. Charlie sighed. "So what's all this about?" I asked him. ghd ceramic iron He folded his arms across his chest and glared out the back windows into the sheeting rain. "Don't know what you're talking about," he grumbled. I was mystified. Charlie cooking? And what was with the surly attitude? Edward wasn't here yet; usually my dad reserved this kind of behavior for my boyfriend's benefit, doing his best to illustrate the theme of "unwelcome" with every word and posture. Charlie's efforts were unnecessary — Edward knew exactly what my dad was thinking without the show. The word boyfriend had me chewing on the inside of my cheek with a familiar tension while I stirred. It wasn't the right word, not at all. I needed something more expressive of eternal commitment. . . . But words like destiny and fate sounded hokey when you used them in casual conversation. Edward had another word in mind, and that word was the source of the tension I felt. It put my teeth on edge just to think it to myself. cheap ghd straighteners Fiancée. Ugh. I shuddered away from the thought. "Did I miss something? Since when do you make dinner?" I asked Charlie. The pasta lump bobbed in the boiling water as I poked it. "Or try to make dinner, I should say." Charlie shrugged. 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I glanced at the clock routinely — something I did every few minutes around this time. Less than a half hour to go now. Afternoons were the hardest part of my day. Ever since my former best friend (and werewolf), Jacob B ghd flat iron lack, had ghd straighteners ireland informed on me about the motorcycle I'd been riding on the sly — a betrayal he had devised in order to get me grounded so that I couldn't spend time with my boyfriend (and vampire), Edward Cullen — Edward had been allowed to see me only from seven till nine-thirty <a href="http://hospital.99mr.com/beijingliqinyihuayizhengx"><strong>李沁奕</strong></a> p.m., always inside the confines of my home and under the supervision of my dad's unfailingly crabby glare. This was an escalation from the previous, slightly less stringent grounding that I'd earned for an unexplained three-day disappearance and one episode of cliff diving. Of course, I still saw Edward at school, because there wasn't anything Charlie could do about that. And then, Edward spent almost every night in my room, too, but Charlie wasn't precisely aware of that. Edward's ability to climb easily and silently through my second-story window was almost as useful as his ability to read Charlie's mind. Though the afternoon was the only time I spent away from Edward, it was enough to make me restless, and the hours always dragged. Still, I endured my punishment without complaining because — for one thing — I knew I'd earned it, and — for another — because I couldn't bear to hurt my dad by moving out now, when a much more permanent separation hovered, invisible to Charlie, so close on my horizon. My dad sat down at the table with a grunt and unfolded the damp n cheap ghd straighteners uk ewspaper there; within seconds he was clucking his tongue in disapproval. "I don't know why you read the news, Dad. It only ticks you off." He ignored me, grumbling at the paper in his hands. "This is why everyone wants to live in a small town! Ridiculous." 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