What this chapter should be called: Fun with force-kissing
Edward creep-o-meter, now factoring in douchebagginess: 7
Well, folks, I’m not exactly sure what to say here. This book, which has been about as predictable as a bus schedule, threw me for a bit of a loop. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to get it over with: the end of this chapter is four whole pages of Jacob and Bella making out. Really. And afterwards, Bella sobs because of her pathetic mixed emotions, and I sobbed because this chapter made about as much sense as my drunken uncle’s frequent “congressmen are secretly lizard-people from Jupiter” tirades.
Ugh. It’s the morning after the sleeping bag snuggle party. Edward makes some quip about the space heater not being necessary. Bella tries to wiggle out of Jacob’s grasp, and is about as successful as you would think. Edward responds by unzipping the sleeping bag, which dumps Jacob on the cold ground. Shenanigans ensue.
“Edward unzipped the sleeping bag in a swift, abrupt movement. Jacob fell out, his bare back hitting the icy floor of the tent. “Hey!” he complained, his eyes flying open. Instinctively, he flinched away from the cold, rolling onto me. I gasped as his weight knocked the breath out of me. And then his weight was gone. I felt the impact as Jacob flew into one of the tent poles and the tent shuddered.”
Um, okay. First, wouldn’t unzipping the sleeping bag just result in Jacob kind of slowly rolling out? (+1 Stupidity) Also, Edward, you dickhead, why didn’t you just wake Jacob up? (+1 Red Flag) Lastly, I imagine I’m supposed to be impressed by Edward throwing Jacob across the tent, but as stated last chapter, unless this is one of those tents from Harry Potter, Sparklepeen only threw Wolfballs about six inches. (+1 Stupidity)
Whoof. When a bunch of obviously stupid things come at me all at once, I get a little flustered. Give me a minute.