This is unbeta'd, thus, it may (surely) contain mistakes!
There's nothing as tempting as a closed door.
It doesn't necessarily have to be an actual door, all I want to say is humans are curious creatures.
Had your friend ever told you something like 'I've heard something amazing but I can't tell you' and you felt that almost agonizing temptation – no, crave to properly express how much you want to hit him/her with a chair? I mean, why did he/she even tell you in the first place if you're not supposed to know the story itself? Yeah, that's what I'm talking about!
A door is interesting, what could wait for you on the other side and stuff, but a closed door with a 'DO NOT ENTER' sign? Hits the high lights.
Ever since I was a child I felt that thrilling yet viperish longing toward the stories and mysteries my grandmother told me and my siblings.
You see, being a Quileute means you, by all odds, have been told the tales of the spirit warriors. As a child the bravery and devotion of ancient ancestors may be fascinating but as you grow, you learn and understand more and more, eventually the fables become boring. Stupid, even.
At least for most of the people it does. And then there are people like me who've found something credible in them. I could sense the truth hidden in the folksy jibber-jabber but I just couldn't see clearly and figure out the whole, real story.
And it pissed me off.
Nearly as much as the stupid techno-crap my sister, Lily was listening to.
"Turn off that shit!" I yelled as I laid on my bed. The thin plasterboard walls didn't put difficulties in the dubstep-techno-thingy's way. I somehow expected the water in my turtles' aquarium to vibrate like in Jurassic Park.
I was sure Lily could hear me but she didn't move a finger to turn down the shindig. I growled. Typical. Since she was the genius in our family, best grades and best remarks, she could basically get away with murder, especially since our father was the deputy at La Push. Sure, Lily was a nice girl, I mean, we had our problems, sibling rivalry and all but I didn't hate her so I just got up and decided to have a walk.
When I opened my bedroom's door the sound of my stepbrother's bellow-like laughing hit my ear. I rolled my eyes but couldn't hide the joyous grin sneaking upon my lips.
"Haven't TV made you crazy yet?" I asked as I hopped down the final steps on the staircase energetically.
"I'm not crazy, just mentally hilarious."
Paul Lahote might be a jerk but at least a funny one.
He became my stepbrother seven years ago when his father, Jack, married my mother. Paul was ten and I was eight around that time so we had time to get accustomed to each other's presence. Two years prior their marriage Mum divorced from my dad, because they somehow realized that they don't like each other (nice, isn't it?), and so did Paul's parents. Paul moved back to La Push with his father, who was my mother's high school love, so it really was a matter of time before they once again fell in love with each other and decided to marry.
Despite the common belief which says that stepparent are horrible and vicious, I actually loved Jack, who was the complete opposite of his son with his calm, gentle and quiet yet caring personality. He inherited his family's ranch which offered trips on horseback all around the reservation with guidance. It was kind of the heart of La Push's fauna as well since the keeper's lodge was near at hand – it took only a two minutes walk to get there which I often did since my mother's sister, Carrie worked there as a veterinarian.
I glanced at Paul from the corner of my eyes while I was putting on my coat. "You're sitting on my spot."
"You wanna sit down?"
"No, I just declared that you're sitting on my spot."
"We can fight it out," Paul suggested with a huge grin on his face, his fists drew in front of his face in a challenging way. He seemed to be in a good mood which surprised me. I even stopped in the middle of my movements to stare at him.
Paul and his nudist, coking branch of dudes acted really jumpy since weeks.
I mean they were strange on the whole, starting from the fact they seemed to be allergic to any kind of clothing through the knowing looks they exchanged quite often to the way they moved in complete synch as if they were able to read each other's minds. But Paul acted extraordinarily strange – he was huffy all the time, his shoulders were tensed and he jumped out of his room's window in the middle of every single night.
He caught me stalking on him once but the only thing he did was to stop then grin up at me and after a sleazy wave he dove into the portentous bushes. He never gave me an explanation, I guess he didn't feel the need to do so.
„I don't want to hurt you," I said with an unsure smile. Paul laughed, his deep voice echoing in the nearly empty house.
I was about to leave through the open door when he spoke up. "Hey, you're classmates with Seth, right?"
I stopped to glare at him once again and knitted my eyebrows. "Seth? As in Seth Clearwater?" The image of the nauseatingly optimistic and happy and guy-next-door-imaged boy popped up before my mind's eye. "Yeah, he's in the same year as me."
"Don't go near him, would you?"
My frown became deeper and I closed the door. That's for walking.
"Why?" I asked with naked curiosity in my eyes.
"His father died. Maybe he seems calm but he could just as easily explode and believe me, Jassy-Jinx, you don't want to be near when it happens." The slight hint of disapproval in his voice only fueled my interest in Seth which was new all the way around. We've been classmates since first grade but we weren't friends. Our interactions gone no further than merely greeting and occasionally asking if the other had homework. Sure, he was a nice boy, but he had his bunch of friends and I had mine, which was fine by me.
However, right now Seth Clearwater sounded like fun.
Paul warned me. Paul actually warned me! He never had tried to act like an officious big brother before, so why now?
"The grandmaster of blaze of anger says what exactly?" Paul's former up beaten mood slowly crept into irritation. That was the Paul we all knew and hate. He crossed his arms in front of his muscled chest and gave me a sharp look.
"I'm saying that you should stay away from him, That's it. And I'm not angry."
"Very well, then what are you?"
He thought hard for a moment before answering, "Passionate."
"The computer you broke the other day in a sudden outbreak of your passion would argue with your phrasing," I grinned mockingly.
Paul narrowed his eyes and I saw his jaw-muscles tightening as he set his teeth. I took it as my cue.
"Never fear, we're not friends anyway." Paul's muscled relaxed at that so I laid hold of his permanent calmness and asked from the doorway, "How do you know Seth's coming to school tomorrow?"
He never answered.
When I arrived at the reservation's school on Monday and sat down on my chair, I pretended to be writing my literature homework when in fact I was hyperaware of everyone coming in the classroom. I was eager to set my eyes on Seth Clearwater, the other times boring boy, who was about to come back after more than two weeks of mourning. At least that's what the teachers told us.
Grace, one of my best friends and practicing bookworm, wasn't distracted by the thick book she was reading and saw what I was doing. "Who are you looking for?" she asked, keeping her gaze steadily on the page.
"Clearwater," I answered in unemotional tone. Grace raised an eyebrow, eyes still fixed on the book.
"Why?"
"Paul put a bug in my ear… He said I should stay away from him." The cutting contrast between 'Clearwater' and 'stay away' was enough for Grace to look up from the book.
"To 'stay away'? Why? In case he's going to contaminate you with sweetness?" Exactly my point! That's why I loved her in the first place; our brains worked the same way.
"I have no idea! I thought he doesn't even know that Clearwater exists…"
"I don't think that they move in the same circles, either. Though I must point at the fact that Paul's fellowship has been under mass reconstruction in the past year or so, thus I don't think we can follow in full who he befriends. I mean, before that 'ding', have it ever occurred to you that he might someday be buddies with Sam Uley?"
I couldn't help but growl at the mention of his name. Sam Uley and Jared Cameron, Paul's new 'BFFs' pissed me off.
Roughly a year and a half ago Paul had a turnaround – he became extremely sick. His skin was on fire, his body was shaking sometimes, and then all of a sudden, he went missing. I've asked Jack if he knows where he might be, if he had called the police, but he just smiled and patted my head, saying 'everything's going to be okay'. He didn't look worried at all but more like if he had known exactly what was going on.
Eventually Paul came home but he was different and not just because he cut his hair short for some reason and started the monokini-style of Uley. No, Paul had that a strange, wild, indescribable aura and sure-as-hell unhealthy heat radiating from his body. I only realized how much he has grown when he stood next to his old friends, Steven and Kai, who both looked like goblins next to a pigment-defected elf from Lothlorien.
Quite unexpectedly, Paul decided to join Uley's branch and leave his former friends. Steve and Kai tried to hang out with him, hell, they even tried to talk with him through me but he just left them. I don't know why I hate Uley and Cameron that much, I mean, it was Paul's choice and his friends, not mine, but still, they were troublemakers in the eyes of most of the reservation's population. They were jumping down of cliffs! For fucking fun! Not to mention all the truancy and sneaking out of the house at night. Still, of course a lot of the girls at our school found them 'dangerously sexy' and 'delightfully charming'.
I eased off on Uley after he started to date Emily Young (poor girl was attacked and disfigured by a bear) but I still had a spite against Cameron. He just seemed like an asshole.
"True enough," I muttered lastly and crossed out half the things I wrote. It was jibber-jabber, interspersed with random words from our conversation. I froze when I thought things over again – just like Paul, Seth's been growing a lot lately… Nah. It's just adolescence.
My ass!
When I heard steps coming closer on the corridor I looked up and back down automatically before realizing what I saw and immediately perked up my head. Seth Clearwater stood in the doorway. Since he was talking to someone the door hidden (probably accepting words of sympathy) he didn't see how bluntly I was staring at him.
There was no way he could grow that much! He was around six foot tall, which meant he had grown at least eight inches and he looked like he's been locked up in a gym. Still, the most upfront thing was (beside his now short hair) the radiating heat and something unlike anything else.
Uley.
Had I been a dog, I'd have been honest-to-god growling.
"Seriously?! Clearwater's become Uley's lapdog?"
"At least he still knows what a t-shirt is,' Grace mumbled. I wasn't able to come up with a proper comeback so I just continued to smolder. Suddenly I lost all of my interest in Clearwater, even the little I had toward him before Paul's warning. Sam Uley's friends are no friends of mine. Except for Paul, because, you know, one has no choice when it comes to family.
I saw on the edge of my sight as Seth came in the classroom and approached his spot, two benches beside us.
"'Stay away, huh?" I muttered to myself when he passed by us. I thought I was quiet enough but since he winced in surprise and (I only guess because I kept my gaze fixed on my notebook) looked at me I might have been louder than planned. I felt his gaze on my back as I tried to write again. It was extremely uncomfortable.
The bell rang and simultaneously Tucker Ayers, my other best friend arrived.
"It's not half past nine yet? You're early," Grace told him mockingly, smiling above her book. Tuck grimaced impatiently.
"Good morning, ladies! It's such a beautiful day, don't you think? Perfect for walking, playing football or water piping," ha sang out as he took his seat next to Grace. I must nail down that Tuck wasn't on drugs, he was smoking tobacco not cannabis or anything but he was kind of addicted to it. And when I say addicted, I mean that he sometimes didn't spend his lunch money on actual food but tobacco. We've tried to get him out of this habit but we've only succeeded so he was smoking tobacco with less nicotine and more flavoring.
But right now I could care less about his problems.
"Is Clearwater looking at me?" I asked from him whose annoyed expression I could only imagine since I dared not to look up.
"Once more: good morning! How do you, my pretty lady Jasmine?"
"TUCK!"
"Fine, fine!" he said, raising his palms in defeat. "I don't even know why we're friends in the first place," he muttered but I pretended like haven't heard it. Tuck turned around and waved to someone, probably to Seth before turning back. "He's not looking."
"Really?"
"Yeah. He looks up occasionally but he's not looking. Why would he?"
"She's getting paranoid," Grace explained and turned a page. I gave her a glare.
Since I didn't thrust Tuck's skills to read the situation I decided to have a look myself. True, Seth wasn't constantly looking at me, well, at least, not until he felt my glare on him, looked up and made eye contact with me. His face became expressionless, his jaw dropped slightly and he fixed his stare at me so tightly I swear I felt it, as an actual, real bondage which held me in place.
Odd. That was the only word coming to my mind at the moment.
One of his friends, Joey, who was talking to him before our eyes met, now waved his hand in front of Seth's face. It broke the astonishing eye-contact. Seth looked like he was just waken up from a deep, dreamy dream and became aware of his surroundings at the very moment. He smiled at Joey apologetically but as soon as he started to talk again, Seth fixed his eyes on me, his thick and dark eyebrows knitted in confusion. While he nodded and said 'yeah' every now and then, he wasn't listening to Joey, I could tell that.
The way he looked me straight in the eye was creepy. His dark chocolate irises sent shivers down my spine – I couldn't really decide if they were utterly creepy or a bit pleasurable. It drags toward creepy, I guess. I don't know why but what I could read from his eyes was puzzlement, slight fear, and… Fondness?
No. It was just creepy.
Tuck, who was also staring at Seth (but didn't even received a single glare from him) leaned closer to me and whispered, "Now he's looking."
Tuck, you're a genius.
I must state that while it was flattering, Seth's constant and hard staring during classes made me highly uncomfortable and it sure as hell distracted me as well. His dark gaze burnt a hole in my back. I had no idea what had gotten into him because as I said before we weren't friends, more like distant acquaintances. I didn't even go to his father's funeral, because, you know, graveyards are scary and depressing.
What are you doing, Seth Clearwater?, I thought, as I tried to ate my sandwich in lunchtime. He was sitting in the other end of the canteen but he, of course, sat so he still saw me through the crowd of the students eager to eat something before returning to the dry lands of math, natural sciences and stuff.
More interestingly, he sat at the same table as the rest of the Uley-gang still attending high school. Basically everyone was there, since only Uley was at the age of twenty: Jacob Black, Quil Ateara, Embry Call, Jared and Paul. Paul. What the hell?! So basically I'm supposed to stay away from Clearwater but they're friends? I didn't understand but I wanted to. In fact, it bothered me so much I felt my brain getting itchy with frustration which grew even bigger when I realized that I have to wait long hours before I had the chance to talk to Paul and figuratively scrape the irritating itch in my head.
"Is there something we're missing?" Tuck's voice came from so close I jumped in my seat then turned to him with narrowed eyes. I hated when he did that and he knew and enjoyed it!
"Some manner, maybe."
He laughed humorlessly. "I mean in relation to Clearwater."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that he's been eyefucking you since the morning and I'm the one getting embarrassed."
I sighed in irritation and thought about how should I hurt him for his impoliteness but Grace prevented that action – she smashed him on the back of his skull with her book herself. Tuck cried out loudly, making the whole canteen look at us for a second before realizing it's just 'Ayers pulling crap' and getting back to their food.
"He's not… 'eyefucking' me. I'd say he's just staring, but I have absolutely no idea why." I sneaked a French fry off Grace's plate and drew back my hands just in time before she'd have had the chance to poke me with her fork and started to chew on it while I looked up at the ceiling pensively. "Maybe he hit his head. I mean, he's sitting with my brother. That's something a normal human being would never do. Speaking of my brother… Where's Kayla?"
Kayla Littlesea was our friend as well – you know that Queen Bee in crappy American High School comedies? Well, she was kind of the Queen Bee of our school, the others listened to her and tried to gratify her, though she was less bitchy and more… Normal. Except for the fact that she adored Paul. Sometimes I had to think about the possibility that she may only come over so often to catch a glance of him.
"Jasmine. It's Monday, we have math, P.E., and we had to hand in our essay for Mr. Coldfield on embryology. Are you seriously asking if Kayla Littlesea, the Champion of Excuses and Malingering, whose mother is incidentally a doctor and as such able to give medical certificates, was about to come to school but something distracted her?" Grace's voice was dripping with sarcasm. I had to spat in agreement while she snarled in annoyance. Originally I had been friends with Kayla since we were two thanks to his grandfather who worked for the keeper's prior to Paul's father where my aunt worked as a doctor. Grace was always a loner but Tucker lived next to her so she kind of had no chance against his friendship and when we've first attended school, we've became friends and get on very well ever since. Well, most of the time – Grace was okay with Kayla, though they were completely different, but there was one thing she couldn't endure: the fact that Kayla get away with everything and anything.
"If my mother would be a doctor, I would ask her to give me certificates as well," Tuck said into the silence settling down on us, trying to disperse Gracie's annoyance.
"Technically, your mother is a doctor…" I remarked somewhat absent-mindedly.
Tuck gave me a meaningful, offish glare and folded his arms in front of his chest. "She's a gynecologist."
Point taken.
I shoot out my tongue at him which was rewarded by a French fry hitting my forehead then coming to halt in my hair. My jaw dropped in jolly awe, the sides of my lips still curling up, and I fought back with two fries – much to Gracie's displease.
"Would you two please try to pretend to be more than four and try not to-…" She was cut off by a bun hitting her face. She let the bun fall to the floor, her expression hardening before she let the temptation take over. "That's enough!"
Grace picked up all of her fries and threw them at us with a devilish grin. Tuck and I ducked under the table but attacked as soon as the fry-bullets stopped. Grace was fighting on two fronts which proved to be insuperable even for Hitler. Soon enough we were stopped in front of our food-battle by a supervising teacher who told us we will clean up the whole canteen after the other's are finished but it was still fun.
After the bell rang, all of the students headed off to their class. When Paul passed by me he gave me a ruffle and stole one of the fries survived the battle off the table. Seth was the last of the Uley-pack to leave the canteen; he seemed to take his time with packing wittingly. When he looked back at me from the doorway I waved to him – fuck, that grin what appeared on his lips! That little wave I gave to him somehow lightened up his already happy mood.
After school Paul waited for me at the parking lot. He drove an old but renewed Ford Mustang; the car's mauve red color stood out in the middle of all the black, white and dark blue cars the other had.
"Can I ask you something?" I wondered when we reached a traffic light which just turned to red.
"You already did." How I hated his wrecked humor sometimes! He might have seen the huffiness in my eyes and gave in with a smug grin on his face. "Sure, whatever, Jinx."
"Since when are you buddies with Seth Clearwater?"
"I guess it's none of your business. Seth is... Fine."
"But you said I should stay away from him," I pointed out somewhat uncomprehendingly.
"I did. And you still should."
"But you…"
"I do a lot of things," Paul cut me off with a raised tone, "which you shouldn't."
"Yeah, I know," I sighed. "For example, you just drove through a road junction strictly without stopping…"
He looked at me sharply. He hated when other told him how to drive, it was a weak point of him. I wanted to continue but seeing as he was practically clenching the steering wheel so hard his fingers whitened and it gave out strange, cracking noises I shut up and looked out of the window. It was raining again, the raindrops rolled down the window competing each other.
Eventually I couldn't bear to hold back the subject I was eager to discuss with Paul. Well, I wasn't eager because it was a strange case but I had to. "Seth was very strange today…"
Paul looked at me from the corner of his eyes then drove his gaze back to the road. "And?"
"Well, I mean, he didn't start to perform ancient tribal rain dances but he looked at me all the time…" I was about to continue when Paul stepped on the brakes so hard the car stopped with jarring noises and my torso fell forward till the point the safety belt allowed. Luckily for us we were already on the access road leading home with no car in seeing distance.
Paul turned nearly completely towards me, not even slightly distracted by the sudden stop. "What do you mean by 'looking'?"
I frowned angrily. "I dunno, he was just… Looking at me. Like, in a creepy way. Almost as if he had been afraid I might disappear or get hurt if he doesn't continue to stare… Like…"
"Like you was the one thing keeping him on Earth?" Paul asked facilely; I had the feeling that he already knew what I was talking about.
"Have you eaten a page of my literature book? Yeah, I guess. Though what I saw is not exactly…"
But Paul was nowhere next to me anymore. He jumped out of the drivers seat in such a pace I didn't even realized he got out until I saw him running towards the trees on the right side of the road; I swear I saw his body trembling and shaking.
I got out of the car and tried to run after him but when I successfully unclasped the belt, he already reached the outermost of the trees. "Paul!" I cried after him.
"Go home!" That was all he said, then nothing, no noise, no sight of him, just me in the middle of the road next to the car with the engine still running and the sound of the rain pattering on the leaves.
Sometimes he pissed me off, too.
Hey guys! So, I have no idea what I'm doing. Seriously. I was never really fond of Twilight, in fact, I was against it but then I read the first book a week ago or so and I've realized that it's not that bad! I mean, the Quileutes and the werewolves are simply awesome - the only thing that makes the book still somewhat unenjoyable for me is Bella, and Edward, and, you know, the main thing. (No offense!)
So, what I want to say is thanks in advance for those reading this. I would really appreciate if you'd leave a review once you've read it! :)