Disclaimer: I own nothing but the spot at the beach. (:
AN: Hmm...Okay so I am most definitely Team Edward (Or as my biffle likes to say "Team Whatever-I-Can-Get" LOL.) But for some reason I couldn't bring myself to name this character Edward. He had to be Jake. I don't know it was like my fingers wouldn't type Edward. But whatever, you get it and its cute just the same. Pictures of the characters are up on my profile. Enjoy!
As I gazed out into what I believed to have been the most beautiful sight in the world I began to wonder what these next few weeks would bring for me. I knew there would be many tears and laughs but what would happen when the people faded away and the hugs disappeared. I squinted a little harder to try to make out the line that divided the sky with the ocean but I couldn't. The morning haze still hadn't lifted. I glanced over at my watch and it read 5:47:11 a.m. I had gone for my usual morning run and was sitting at my spot at the beach by the rocks. The waves crashed just perfectly against the cold marble-resembling rocks. The view was spectacular in this spot. And absolutely no one knew about this place. Partially because it was so far down the beach that only I was crazy enough to run the distance and also because it was covered by giant trees that arched themselves just perfectly to make a cozy space for one in the sand; two if you wanted to get romantic about it.
This was my—Bella Swan by the way, how very rude of me not to introduce myself—thinking space. I came here after every break up. I came here after my mother died. I even came here when my brother died. And now, I'm coming here because I'm about to graduate high school and I have no idea where my life is headed. Yeah, you could say big problem. I mean its not like I have no direction, I know what my passion is, I just don't know how…erm…or what…to do with it. Lets not kid ourselves here. I'm one fantastic harpist. When I play the harp I feel untouchable. The way Michelangelo felt when he created the David. Or when Da Vinci created the Mona Lisa. Well I wouldn't compare myself to them of course, but the feeling, the passion; it's all the same. Any artist would tell you the same. I know what I love to do I just wish I knew how to channel my creativity.
I'm currently attending the completely wrong school. I go to Forks High School. Yeah, in Forks, Washington. Like the most uncreative area on the planet. I think my dad did it on purpose. He doesn't really; well actually he really hates my "talent." He says that with my brains I could do anything else in the world, when I much rather stay home and play the harp than take on the world. He just doesn't understand. And I don't understand him. So we pretty much keep our distance. It happened when my mom died. Our separation, I mean. I don't know how it must feel to have your true love with you one moment and then have her ripped away from you so suddenly but I know that I could've used my daddy when it all happened. Its like he vanished alongside my mother that night that she was killed. And he hasn't re-appeared since. Of course I mean that all figuratively. His soul left this earth when my mom passed away, this I truly believe. This is also what helps me not be mad at him. I know he wants to be there for me but I also know that he cant bear to see me mother in me. I look just like her; it would help if I didn't. And I got my musical talent from her too.
"I should get going…" I muttered to myself while slowly standing up from my makeshift seat. A large piece of driftwood served as the perfect sitting area for thinkers such as myself.
I stretched a tiny bit more because I planned on lightly jogging my way back home. I quickly stole another glance at the ocean in all it's morning splendor and with that I broke into a sprint and was on my way home. It was convenient that I lived almost 3 miles from my spot on the beach because three miles is what my workout called for. I wasn't particularly athletic—running was my forte—but I was still fit. I did ballet for several years as a girl and was graced with a petite figure and a fast metabolism. You could say I have a big appetite. As I turned into the street where my home was situated it began to rain.
"Crap!" I yelled out loud, it's not like anyone could hear me. And rapidly switched my light jog for an all-out run. "…Forks!…" I spat contemptibly towards no one in particular. Finally I reached my front door and was fumbling for my key when all of a sudden I feel a cold hand on my shoulder. My instinct kicked in and I swiftly turned around ready to punch the mystery person in the groin. But as soon as my head turned around I realized it was my best friend Katya.
"Shit girl you scared the crap outta me!" I yelled at her almost furious.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry Bells!" she responded, "I didn't think you'd go all kung-fu ninja on me." She burst out laughing after.
"Ha, ha Katya. You're hysterical." I replied bitterly.
"So you went running, eh?" she asked trying to muffle a laugh that I knew was coming out very soon. Like now.
"Yeah, why's that so hard to believe, huh? Come here you little punk!" with that I tackled her and was tickling her harder than she knew how to laugh.
"STOP BELLS PLEASE!" She pleaded.
I had no mercy. "As soon as you stop making fun of me for going to my spot!" I answered her.
"Okay, okay fine. But one day I want to go to this place…" she began walking towards the kitchen to raid the fridge, like always.
"I-I-…umm…listen, you know how I-" but she cut me off "I know I know, I get it. It's your place to think and its sacred." This time she was completely serious.
"Thanks K, you're the best." I hugged her more out of practice than anything else. I felt a little empty today, you know? There's just these days that everything's a question for you and you just feel…alone. Why am I here? What am I supposed to do with my life? How did I get this stain on my shirt? Okay, scratch that last one; that's just me. But you get me…its just one of those days.
"Oh man!" I heard Katya screech from the kitchen "I'm gonna be late!"
"See ya later K!" I answered her without questioning. I knew she meant she was going to be late to swim practice. She's been all flustered recently because of her new swimming coach. He was barely out of high school and had already been to the Olympic trials twice. Not to mention that he was a blonde hair, green eyed, Australian accented, god. Did I mention he had a great personality too? Always positive and charming. So of course she was going to be late; late for being early. She loved to watch him practice in the pool before her private lessons with him. Of course she had to watch from afar and then exit the building and re-enter afterwards to make it look like she wasn't hiding out or anything.
Once I heard the front door slam shut I plopped myself onto the couch and began my channel surfing to find the perfect chick flick to lull me to sleep on this wonderfully lazy day. As I was just beginning to drift away into my dreamland, the sounds of Molly Ringwald and Jon Cryer's voices in Pretty in Pink sweetly aiding me in my pursuit for rest, I was rudely startled awake by a loud banging on my front door. It consistently got louder and louder and I finally decided to go check things out.
It couldn't be my dad; he was on a business trip. And it definitely wasn't Katya because she wouldn't miss her dearly beloved making his rounds in the pool. So who was it?
I opened the door a tiny bit and gasped.
What stood in my doorway was one of my most beautiful men I have ever seen in my life. But what was he doing in my threshold? And better yet, who was he?
"Can I help you?" I asked, instantaneously turning my flirt on and batting my eyelashes.
"Um…well, the lights went out at my house and my little sister is scared to death. She's still scared of the dark. And the other neighbors weren't home and I really don't know how to deal with a crying five-year-old little girl and I was wondering if maybe we could stay here for a while because I'm really freaking out you know?" Oh my God. He even rambles beautifully.
"Of course you can," I answered him "make yourself at home." My sleepy thoughts began to disappear as I started to take in my surroundings. I had a very sexy, very wet boy in my home, asking me for help and wondering if he could camp out here until it stopped raining. There was almost nothing stopping me from running at him and ripping off his clothes as I sized up the boy that stood in front of me with a beautifully crooked smile. Of course I would act civilly, but the thoughts that crossed my mind are not to be discussed. Finally he broke the semi-awkward situation that we had placed ourselves in.
"Oh sorry, I'm Jacob. And this is Isabella." He blurted out. "We live next door." The little girl, Isabella, was still hiding behind her brother's legs seemingly intimidated.
"Oh no way! My name is Isabella too! But everyone calls me Bella." I said with more enthusiasm than I meant. I didn't want to overwhelm the poor girl. But instead it worked. She slowly crept out from behind her brother's legs and whispered a very adorable, "Hi." Apparently good looks ran in the family. She had golden ringlets that draped down her back and her skin was a beautiful olive tone. Almost the complete opposite of her brother. He, Jake, had what seemed like jet black hair and these blues eyes that made you want to get lost inside of them. Not to mention that he was very fair skinned and was pretty muscular from the form-fitting wet clothing that he was draped in.
"So you just moved here?" he asked very sincerely.
"Oh no, we've—I've—lived here for about two years now." I did the mental math and it worked out.
"Oh that's awesome. So you go to Forks High?"
"Yeah, yeah, unfortunately."
"Why is that unfortunate?" he so didn't understand. I needed to be in an arts academy somewhere in London or Paris or Milan! Not here. In Forks. Washington!
By now we had moved slowly but surely towards the living room. Little Alyson had made her way to my room and was playing with my old dolls (Yes, I realize that I am entirely too old to still have my dolls but hey, why not?). I was attempting to pick up the mess I'd made after coming home from my run.
He caught a glimpse of my iPod in my armband and my sneakers and he asked in an attempt to make conversation, "So, you run?"
"Yeah, I do. There's something really therapeutic about it." I answered. "Do you?"
"Yep," He said. "Maybe…um…sometime we could you know…take a run together?" asked, his green eyes shining with some excitement.
"Sure!" I answered maybe a little too fast and too eager. I tried to do some damage control. "That'd be cool."
I regained my composure after getting all flustered at the thought of running with him.
"So how come I haven't seen you around here before?" I asked him.
"Well, I was enrolled at Washington State University but I dropped out, much to my parents disappointment."
"Oh how come?" I asked and then a wave of embarrassment rushed over me and I tried to fix what I said without making him uncomfortable. "If you don't mind me asking…" I'm such a moron.
"Well, you know how people say that college isn't for everybody?"
"Yeah" I said.
"Well they're right. Ha. It so wasn't in my plan to leave."
"Oh so you're the 'plan' type, huh?" I laughed in a weak attempt to lift his spirits. He faked a laugh back.
I don't really know why he had such an impact on me. I was trying so hard for him. I instantly felt weak at the knees when I thought of kissing him. Just thinking of touching him left me breathless. I snapped out of those thoughts quickly when I realized the awkward silence I had single handedly created by my daydreaming. I looked to my side where he had sat himself comfortably on the other side of the couch. He was staring. Oh god…I have something on my face for sure. Oh man. Okay. Act cool, this is nothing. Try wiping your face very nonchalantly. I began wiping my face as if I was yawning. He laughed out loud at my not-so-slick attempt.
"Why are you doing that? There's nothing on your face." He asked after laughing very obnoxiously at me.
I glared back at him. Then he smiled. My glaring ceased the moment he smiled that crooked smile of his and I could no longer be mad at him. Damn the power he had over me!
I walked over to the kitchen and yelled from there if he wanted anything to eat or drink. But before I could finish my sentence he was already right beside me in the kitchen. His cologne was intensified with the moisture on his clothing and he smelled so sweet. I shook my head trying to shake the thoughts of him out. It barely worked.
We made polite small talk that soon turned into a full-blown conversation. It happened while we were in a deep and philosophical debate on being pro-twilight or anti-twilight. Of course I was pro-twilight, after all I was still searching for my Edward, we heard a loud thump and then a screech of pain. Before I knew what was happening Jake had shot up and darted towards my room, soon to find Alyson sprawled out on the floor and bleeding from her head. I was in too much shock to do much of anything.
"CALL 9-1-1!" I heard Jake scream.
I ran to my telephone and dialed the number and told the much-too-calm woman on the phone that my friend's little sister had hurt herself and was bleeding from her head and gave her my address.
Within the next five minutes an ambulance showed up and everything around me was a blur of red and white and lots of yelling. I had no idea what was going on around me. My mind refused to accept what was going on. I heard paramedics yelling different things in what seemed to be their own language. I glanced to the corner of my room and saw Jake rolled up into a tiny ball sobbing and repeating that it was his fault and that he should've been here. My legs took action there and I ran to him. I bent down on my knees and took Jake in my arms. He released the firm grip he had on his own knees and held even tighter onto me. I could feel his sobs and his tears began to wet my shirt. It took us both by surprise what happened next. Paramedics pronounced Isabella Neil dead.
A flurry of various tubes and needles all began slowly to be removed from the corpse of the once lively young girl that was now deceased. Jake stopped crying at the moment that the ambulance took her away. It's not that he didn't feel pain. It's that the pain was so great that there weren't tears that could express his grief. I looked into his once bright blue eyes but now they were dull and dead inside, almost completely hollow. It seemed as if all of the color had been drained from Jake's face and he stood, motionless at my doorstep. He said nothing to me as he walked away into the rain. I didn't follow after him. I knew he needed to be alone right now. I knew this kind of pain.
The weeks went by, all of my fears washed away with this great tragedy. I graduated high school and didn't go to college. And it felt absolutely right. I was working part time and practicing my music. I was getting pretty good too. I was out running one morning, as usual when I take a quick backwards glance and my heart stops. I knew I heard more footsteps and sand swishing behind me but I didn't think I knew who it was. I stopped dead in my tracks and waited for this person to catch up to me.
"How about that run?" Jake asked as he passed by me.
I sprang after him but was speechless. I didn't want to bring up the past. But I knew that just seeing me made him think of that day, it was inevitable. I will forever more be condemned with that wretched day. So instead we ran in silence. Until I realized that he was running on my trail. I knew all too well where this run ended and I didn't know that I wanted him there. I wasn't ready to share my spot.
"Do you think we can take a break here?" I asked pretending to be out of breath so he would stop too. And it worked. We sat together by the water as I mulled over in my mind whether I should show him my spot. I turned my head and saw the angelic face that had left me weeks ago, contorted in tormented pain. He looked serene now. I felt an ache in my heart for him that made me want to bend over. Then he spoke.
"I'm sorry I've been so distant these last weeks."
"Oh Jake it's not your fault!" I whispered back as maternally as I could. I wanted to let him know that he had done nothing wrong and had offended me in no way whatsoever. But I couldn't find the words. He searched and scanned my face for any trace of insight into what I wanted to say but I was expressionless. I couldn't say it, but I could show him. I grabbed Jake's hand and whispered, "Follow me."
When we finally reached my spot I was hesitant to let him walk in first. But I did. He sat down on the driftwood and I sat closely next to him. Our hands brushed as we sat together.
After a long while of silence—but not the awkward kind that seemed to plague my conversations with him—I found myself speaking.
"I want you to know that you did nothing wrong and that there aren't words that I can say to make you see how terrible I feel about what happened. So I decided that I'd share with you the single most important thing and place in my life. This is my spot. And you're the first—and only—to see it."
He didn't respond, or better yet he did, just not with words. His smile said everything to me. I knew things would be okay. I turned my face towards the open ocean in front of us and marveled at its beauty. That is, until I felt a slight pull on my face from a warm hand. Jake turned my face towards his and kissed me so lightly that I might've thought it was a butterfly batting its soft wings against my lips. We parted and he looked into my eyes like never before, "I know we haven't known each other for very long but I've wanted to do that since the very first day I met you." These words were whispered. I responded with yet another kiss, this one more intense and whispered back "I love you." His eyes glimmered at the sounds that these three words had made in his head. Jake was ecstatic that I felt the same way he did and he was relieved that he didn't have to be the first to say it. The fact is, I've been in love with him since the day I laid eyes on him. I lowered myself onto the sand and laid my head against the driftwood that we once sat on. He mirrored my movements exactly except he was propped up on an elbow and looked down on my smiling. We laid there for I don't know how long; him tangling his hands in my hair and whispering sweet nothings into my ear as I looked up at him in awe. He made me feel so right in so many different ways.
From that moment on I helped Jake in any way I could. We enrolled ourselves in Washington State University, him of course as a returning student and me, well I was just a freshman. He still grieved the loss of his little sister but in many ways it felt as if she brought us together and made us stronger. I believe her tiny hand had something to do with our paths crossing. On the night of our graduation from WSU Jake proposed to me on the roof of the building where we had just purchased our first apartment. We didn't rush the wedding. We married on November 8, 2010. That January we moved into our humble abode and each got jobs. I taught music at an elementary school in Forks and Jake finished off his medical school that he had dropped out of years earlier. We soon had our first child, Alice and about a year later Ryan was born. We eventually moved out of our apartment and moved into a larger home but we remained in Forks. To this day I haven't returned to my spot. I simply haven't needed it. My life was finally coming together, I had my career, my children and most of all I had my Edward—my Jake. My life had new meaning and I was ready to start living it. You could just call me lucky.