Chapter One:
The Ringing In My Head
When I started on my journey of finding myself, or whatever cliché people are using now a days, this is not where I expected my life to be - waiting for some big break to spare my suffering. That was the thing, I was always waiting. Waiting as if life somehow owed me for being a part of the cosmos. But the world never owed me anything.
In retrospect, it only mattered to me now. It would stop mattering soon, but I didn't know that. All I knew was that it was just another day. Another day going through high school, trying to make it through the eight hours of boredom, only to come home to an empty house. My mother was always working. A single parent, she had no other choice. It seemed that every day I would get a message from her about picking up another late-night shift to cover another nurse. And I appreciated her for everything she did. It would be nice to see her more often, but that couldn't be helped.
It was early in the morning, around eight. The morning light was shining through the open window in the living room. As I sat on the couch, tucking my dirty blonde hair behind my ear, I sipped a hot cup of tea. My legs were bare, cold from the morning air sweeping through the room. I pulled them close to my chest. It was a normal day, but something didn't feel right. I could feel it in my bones. There was almost an ache that ran through them. Something was wrong, but I brushed it off. How could I possibly know that anything was wrong? I had no messages, no phone call, no knock on the door.
Nearly as if my words had ushered some comic chain of reactions, there was a knock on the door. My breath caught in my throat and I nearly dropped my cup.
"I'm coming," I let out after my breath had calmed. That was creepy.
Shakily, I placed my cup on the table before me and went to answer the door. It slowly opened to reveal the sheriff of our town, an unusual frown upon his face.
"Mornin' Clairy."
"Good morning, sheriff. What can I do for you?"
"Well," he slowly started, his eyes bearing the sadness he felt. "I'm sorry to have to say this…"
The rest of what he said began to fade to dull murmur that I barely processed. There was no way what he was saying was true. My mother? Dead? I had just seen her the night before. She left for work saying she'd be working all night and would be home in the morning. It was supposed to be her at the door, coming home in her usual fashion, ready to cook up breakfast no matter how exhausted she was. It wasn't supposed to be the sheriff; telling me how sorry he was and what the next steps would be.
The next steps.
I couldn't live here anymore. There was no guardian to take care of me and I was still in high school. My life was here – I didn't want to leave. My friends, my school, my house.
"W-wheree am I supposed to go? My life is here… my mom…" I couldn't contain the sobs. They flowed freely and my hands began to shake.
The sheriff extended a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Your mom had set up a plan for you in case something like this happened. You're going to be well taken care of, Clairy. You don't have to worry. Everything is going to be okay."
It's been three days since I found out my mother had died; something that I still haven't been able to process. I've decided to push it to the back of my mind. If I don't think of it, it can't hurt me. At least, that was what I told myself to keep going. I had other things to focus on. The sheriff had arranged a car to take me to my new home: La Push, Washington. It was like an ambush of butterflies had decided to make their new home my stomach. I was only 16 years old and now I was headed somewhere I'd neve been before, to live with people I've never met before. This was almost too much for me to handle.
A car horn honked, knocking me out of my trance. I slowly looked around the house that I had called home for so long, knowing I would never see if again. All the subtle hints of my mother blended in with beautiful décor. After letting out a long breath, I grabbed my bags and headed out, shutting the door behind me.
An older gentleman was waiting by the trunk of a black BMW. He was a kind looking man, maybe in his fifties. He had a head of nearly all white hair, with traces of black still clinging to youth. The smile on his face was sincere, mixed only slightly with a hint of sadness; showing he knew the reason he was driving me today.
"Good Morning, Ms. Longview. My name is Albert and I'll be driving you to La Push today."
I smiled as best I could, a feeble attempt at best. "Clairy is fine, Albert. And thank you."
He nodded his head understandingly, grabbing my bags and loading them into the trunk. Albert knew that I wouldn't be much for conversation today. I appreciated this. I didn't think I would be able to handle a five-hour drive with trivial topics.
The drive to La Push was quiet, which I was okay with. My time was spent mostly staring out the window watching the green forest pass by. The sky had taken a dark and gloomy turn as we neared our destination, raining trailing down the sky in a rhythmic motion. Fitting, I couldn't help but think.
I contemplated what my life would be like here. I would be living with a man named Billy Black and his son Jacob. What were they like? The son was supposed to be my age, something the sheriff had told me I'm assuming to try and brighten my spirits. Other than that, I had no idea what I was walking into. Which unnerved me.
I was jolted out of my thoughts when the car shook to a stop.
"We've arrived, Clairy," Albert's voice boomed from the front. He gave me a reassuring smile in the rear-view mirror as he got out of the car and tended to the bags.
Letting out a deep sigh, I forced myself to leave the backseat of the car. Had I known it would be raining, I would have dressed differently. Looking down at my clothes I rolled my eyes. I had chosen a pair of jean shorts, a form fitting tank top with a red and black plaid sweater providing my only warmth and black boots. Not ideal weather for a rainy day in La Push. I was freezing.
As I went to grab my bags from Albert, feeling bad that he was lugging my things around and I was doing nothing, I caught a glimpse of an older man and a few young men standing by the front door. I quickly turned away, dreading the scene that was surely to follow.
"I can grab those," I said quietly to the driver, taking the bags from his hand.
"Oh, it's my job to grab these now miss!"
"That doesn't mean I can't help," I said, smiling. Though we had spoken very little on the drive, I had grown rather fond of him.
He seemed to appreciate the sentiment and handed me a few of my bags. There was nothing left to do now but to turn and walk towards the house. And that was exactly what I did. The older man I had seen earlier was smiling, sitting in a wheelchair at the top of the porch. This had to be Billy. He was slightly heavyset with dark russet skin and black hair. He waved as I got closer and I was happy my hands were full. I'm not sure I would have waved back otherwise. I offered instead a slight smile.
One of the boys standing on the grass below the porch looked very much like Billy and I assumed it was Jacob. He was tall, but the boys standing around him were all tall, and very muscular. He had dark black hair and mischievousness about his person.
The one next to him was tall and thin, and seemed almost shy, though it was hard to tell from so far away and having never spoken to him. He had the same russet skin they all shared but seemed sweeter than the others. Maybe he was younger, was my guess.
I finally neared the group when I laid eyes on the last of their little pack. This one stopped me in my tracks and my breath caught in my throat. I started to wonder why he had such an effect on me, but my mind went blank. All I could think about was how tall he was. How dark his black hair was and how soft it looked – and damn, how I wanted to feel how soft it really was. His deep brown eyes pierced my own green eyes and my heart skipped a beat. He had the same mischievous glint in his eyes as the other boy, but a more hard-set look on his face.
I faintly heard Billy mutter something. It took all I had to tear my eyes away from the boy whose name I really wanted to know.
My face turned red, I could feel it, as I said, "I'm sorry – what did you say?"
The old man simply smiled. "I said it's nice to meet your Clarice, I'm Billy. This is my son Jacob and his friends Embry and Paul."
Paul, I thought. It suited him.
"It's just Clairy," I corrected.
I gave each of them a glance. Embry waved his hand in the air in greeting, saying nothing. I had been correct, he was a shy one.
Jacob smiled, giving out a, "Hey."
And Paul said nothing. He only stared at me with such intensity I looked away back at Billy.
"Um… Thank you for letting me stay here. You knew my mother, I guess?"
Billy nodded his head, motioning for us to go inside. "Yes, your mother actually grew up here. We've known – had known – each other for a very long time."
I winced at the use of past tense when referring to my mother but followed him inside anyway. A quick glance behind me and I saw Albert waving goodbye from the driver's seat of the BMW, the rest of my bags placed neatly on the porch. He had been so quiet I hadn't noticed him coming and going. I offered him a wave and headed in. I could get my bags later.
Behind me I could hear the boys whispering intensely and my curiosity spiked. I tried to listen in but it was as if they knew I was and stopped talking. I kept myself from shrugging my shoulders, although I really wanted to, and placed my bags down in the corner of the living room.
"I really appreciate you letting me stay here, Billy," I thanked again, not really knowing what to say. My mind was wrapping around a million thoughts in my head.
"Of course, child. It was your mother's request and I was happy to do it. I think you'll like living here in La Push." Billy gave a mischievous glance behind me as he finished talking and looked up to see the boys walking in.
And there was Paul again. Quiet. Staring. Handsome.
Nope! I thought. This was not the time to get distracted by something like that. I had just lost my mother. Moved to a new home with people I didn't know. I had enough on my plate.
Jacob and the others sat down, Embry on the floor and Jacob and Paul on the couch. I just then realized I was still awkwardly standing in the open space. I took a seat on the couch – the only open space being next to Paul. I made sure to keep as much space as possible between the two of us without seeming weird.
"So Clairy, right? What kind of stuff do you do for fun?" Jacob asked.
"Oh," I said, stumped a little. I honestly hadn't been expecting him to ask something like that. "Well, I like running and swimming. And I guess getting into trouble, as my mom would always say," I laughed. Weird. It felt weird to laugh with mom gone.
Jacob laughed a little. He seemed genuinely happy I was happy. Which was odd since I'd only met them. Though they seemed to really care about this girl that they'd only met.
"Trouble?"
I was more surprised to hear his voice, than the question he had asked. Paul had such a deep voice. It gave me shivers. I almost forgot to answer.
"Oh yeah, trouble. Anything happens and I always seem to be near it," I half-heartedly smiled. "I don't know why. It's like I'm a magnet for that kind of stuff."
I shrugged my shoulders this time. It was true. All my life I had always been a magnet for bad things to happen. Never understood why and I guess I'd just gotten used to it after living with it for so many years. Paul, on the other hand, seemed genuinely concerned. He looked like he wanted to say something but instead kept his mouth shut, but never lowered his eyes from mine. Which was okay with me. I could stare into them all day.
Woah, I thought to myself. What is going on?
There was way too much emotion surging through my body right now. I needed to cool off. I stood up abruptly, earning concerned looks from everyone. "I think I'm going to go for a walk. I'll be back in a bit."
And before anyone could say anything, I turned and walked out the front door as quickly as possible. Behind me I could hear Embry, I think, saying "You think you could've stared at her a little less, dude?"
I don't know how long I had been walking since I left Billy's house, or honestly exactly how to get back, but I ended up on a beach. It was beautiful. There was a mist that sprayed over the area. The cold wind blew off the water, causing me to shiver. I wrapped my sweater tightly around my body, though it did little to warm me. As I walked from the forest edge toward the water, I let my mind wander.
What was going on? I move to a new place after my mother dies and I meet a boy, and then all of a sudden I can't breathe around him? I just want to hold him? I don't even know him! I had to be going crazy. This had to be a coping mechanism to help me deal with my grief. I don't act like this. Usually, I am methodical, I think everything through. I don't make rash decisions… but, something about this place, about me, is different now. I just can't place my finger on it.
The wind was blowing my hair around my face and the sound of the waves crashing filled me ears. I unlaced my boots, laying them on the sand, and walked into the water. I let the waves splash against my bare calves, the cold sending a chill up my spin. The unnerving feeling that someone was watching me caused me to look behind at the forest line, where the grass met the sand. But no one was there. At least, no one I could see.
Still, I stared for a minute.
What if someone or something was there? I did always attract trouble, so I wouldn't be surprised. But nothing moved, except the trees in the wind, so I turned back to the water.
There was a ringing in my ears. With every second that passed, the ringing grew louder. I shook my head as if it would shake the noise from me, but nothing happened. A few minutes had passed and it was unbearable now.
I fell to my knees, knowing no one was here to help, but still whimpering out a cry. Nothing like this had happened to me before. The ringing was soon accompanied by a pounding in my head and chill spreading through my body. I wanted to get up and get help, but I couldn't move. My body was frozen.
It felt like hours before someone was by my side. My eyes were closed, but I could feel someone. Whoever it was, was really warm. I felt myself lifted into strong arms, held against a chest. Someone stroked my hair and something warm, like a blanket, was now covering my arms.
He spoke, but it was muffled.
I opened my eyes as quickly as I could, trying to suppress the pain, to see Paul. His face was filled with so much worry; eyebrows creased and his eyes wide. I registered then that it was his arms holding me, and quickly after that it was his shirt that he had taken off and put on my bare arms.
Oh God, I thought through the pain. He doesn't have a shirt on.
"Clairy? What's wrong? Are you okay?" He asked again.
I barely uttered out, "My head… the ringing…," before my eyes fluttered shut.
And this time they stayed shut.