chapter one
Obsession- the domination of one's thoughts by a persistent idea, image, thought, or desire
KEEEE KEEE KEEEE Again, I woke up to the sound of my annoying high pitched alarm clock. I would have turned it off, but it was eight feet from my bed in the corner of my room. During sixth grade I'd had to move it into the corner farthest from my bed just to keep me from turning it off. I wanted to sleep more or say I was sick and stay home, but because I wasn't really sick, and didn't want detention for being late, I decided against it.
I rolled onto my back and stared blearily at the ceiling. I was trying to remember the dream I'd had, trying to decipher why there was pain deep in my stomach because of it. Then of course I remembered.....and wished I had let my sub-consciousness bury it. The dream wasn't a nightmare in the sense that you woke up screaming in fear, it was worse. It was the type of nightmare that had you crying while you were still asleep. I remembered everything now.
I was walking in the school hallway, dodging all the other students who couldn't see me because of my height. I knew I was dreaming because I was just walking in the hall-ways, and couldn't remember to care about where I was going. As the hundredth person accidentally knocked me to the floor, the dream blurred and became black for a few minutes that could have been hours.
When my dream-sight came back I was in my history class. I vaguely felt the excitement that had recently started to come to me during those lectures. I despised the tedium that was U.S history, but the people in the class, no the person in the class, made it tolerable.Jared my dream self sighed, as the object of my five year obsession walked into the classroom... and sat in the assigned seat beside me. I stayed there for a while in a blissful, yet blurry haze, just staring at his profile. Wishing for all the world that I could make him turn to me, but remaining too entranced to try conversation. Then my view shifted, and I still had no idea whether the dream was good or bad
As my dream self felt remorse for the change of scenery a field filled my vision. There was a smog so deep that I couldn't see more than four feet in front of me hanging in the air. When I realized that there was a body before me I looked to it. I felt a stinging shock as I recognized who it was. Jared. Odd that I would be shocked to see him, I had just been with him in history, I thought. My thoughts were the idle thoughts that occur only in dreams and drunken stupors. Butterflies partied within my stomach at the sight of his confused look and a painful sweep of longing went through me when I thought about how beautiful he was. I couldn't help but remember that he wasn't, and never would be, mine. I was too boring, lacking in talent or any other noticeable attributes. Still, ceaselessly remaining underneath all the negativity the tiny strand of hope I held in my heart lingered. That hope was the very thing I tried vainly to suppress. It was most likely the hope that forced my dream self to speak.
"I love you, I've been hopelessly, desperately and unhealthily in love with you for a long time. I am borderline obsessed and have no hope whatsoever, but would you please go out with me?" I heard my voice say. Shock flowed through me, even in sleep I couldn't believe I was stupid enough to say that. What had I done? Getting the feelings out felt good for about two seconds, and then the thought of a response turned that relief into true terror.
" I'm sorry, but no." his husky voice answered, his wide chocolate brown eyes were filled with pity and guilt. His handsome features were filled with apology. " I don't even know you."
Dream-Jared wasn't mean but I was still crushed. Pain swirled around me as I watched his broad back walk away. My legs fell from under me. The words "I don't even know you" swirled around in my head like a hail storm over and over again. I didn't know him and it shouldn't matter whether or not i did, I had to snap out of it. We had never had a conversation, and he had never even looked at me. I needed to get over him. But I couldn't. "I don't even know you" spoken in a warm husky voice wrapped darkness around me as I continued to sob like a motherless infant.
I shook away the dream roughly, Come on kid cheer up. Today you get to watch a movie in history. No boring completely useless history lessons. Bravo! The only good thing about that wretched class is the seating arrangement I thought. The reminder of that fact cheered me up, despite the pang it sent through my heart. I grinned to myself as I got up out of bed only to have that grin fall from my face two seconds later.
I normally couldn't stay depressed for more than an hour, and couldn't stay mad for more than two minutes. My emotions used to be permanently stuck in fast-forward. In the past year that had changed. There was always a loneliness underlying everything I did. The longer I spent near Jared the more hopeless love i felt and the farther I fell down a dark well of depression.
Trying once again to shake off my negatively charged emotions, I got out of bed, grabbed my clothes and headed to the bathroom. When I got there I turned the hot water all the way up and relaxed in the warmth.
When I was clean and dressed I looked out the bathroom window. It was raining, as usual. It always rained in La Push. I loved my home, the small reservation of Quileute Indians was peaceful and remote. But sometimes the rain looked grotesquely threatening. Those times mostly appeared when I had to ride the bus.
I sighed, I knew my mom had already left me behind. Today wouldn't be a good day to stand out in the rain, I was already in a bad mood. She would have been late for work if she dropped me off, so I didn't feel all that bad about it. There was no reason for me to be sad, or so I told myself. Despite my better judgement I felt as if she hadn't noticed me and left me behind.
"Get it together Kim, you have a good life. Not many people notice you, but there are still friends that you can talk to. There are still people who love you." I said to myself, thinking of my newly divorced mother and my lovable bear of a big brother. "Cheer up" I added in a growl. I hated bad moods, they spoiled everything.
The bus didn't arrive for an hour, so I took the time to look in the mirror and give the reflection an evaluation. It had been a long time since I had done this, appearances were not one of the things on my long list of obsessions. I analyzed my face, hair, and body critically. I didn't give a damn about my clothes or the way people saw me, but I still couldn't resist looking. My hair was long, straight, and glossy black, exactly like the typical Quileute. My skin was a russet color, and unlike a lot of girls in my school i didn't wear any makeup over it. Being really short, with brown eyes, full lips, and a wide nose I looked pretty boring. I focused on my nose for a while. I hated my nose. It got me teased, and was the only pronounced feature in my face.
Oh well, I thought, no use stressing over it, I mean, really, who cares? I thought .....uh okay maybe me, I unwillingly admitted to myself.
I hurried downstairs to get a pop tart before I caught the bus. As I was walking out of my house to the bus stop somebody's car sped by and I got soaked by the resulting splash of water. I knew when I woke up that my day was going to be unpleasant, I thought bitterly as I boarded the bus.
When I arrived at the school, the first two classes went by quickly. Nothing happened that was any worse than usual I only ended up on the floor with my books scattered all over the place twice, which was a new record because my average was four times. I couldn't wait till third period and walked straight into history and sat down a full fifteen minutes early. I waited and waited but he never came. Where was Jared?
By the end of the school day I was too restless to go home. After history I had assumed that Jared had skipped class, but by the end of the day my hopes had been crushed. He wasn't anywhere to be seen. When I asked my best friend Maria if she'd seen him she'd responded with a sympathetic look and a sigh. "No I haven't seen him. Kim you're worrying me, this........... obsession went beyond harmless about two years ago. You won't be happy if you continue pining after Jared." she had said.
"Yeah, tell me something I don't know. I've been trying to cure myself of this problem for years." I had responded. She knew that too, she had played a major role in all of the failed attempts. Why did she have to bring it up?I had thought irritated though I had instantly felt remorse for my mean thoughts. Maria was being Maria. She naturally worried about people and always tried to help them. Maria perpetually remained much too kind and timid for her own good. She was worse than me in the shyness department, but once you got to know her you realized what a riot she could be. She had almost no reason to be shy, she was tall, brilliant and gorgeous. The only reason guys didn't fawn all over her was because they were intimidated. What guy would have the guts to ask Maria out? Her black hair went to her waist, her body was curvy and long, and her face was indescribably perfect. The golden color of her eyes would have clashed on any other Quileute but matched her bright smile astoundingly. She was gorgeous and could have any guy she wanted. Whenever I told her this she just rolled her eyes and said I was biased.
"Okay, I'll take that literally" she said sensing my internal conflict "Hmmm something Kim doesn't know..... Let's see how about when to stop pulling on a dog's tail?" She joked, smiling at me. The tension instantly melted as I stuck out my tongue at the reminder of a story from sixth grade. She laughed, my reaction to the subject was hilarious to her. Her sense of humor was odd and oftentimes left me confused, but Maria was the best friend I'd ever had. She was also the only one in the whole world I trusted with my Jared obsession. As usual I couldn't help but laugh with her, her beautiful laugh always pulled in anyone around her.
Instead of heading home after school I started to walk to First Beach. I always went there whenever I needed to escape and free myself of oppressing thoughts. The beauty of the beach always struck me. The naturally colored rocks in varying shades of red, green, purple, and blue lying on the ground made the miles of ocean view perfect. Amidst such beauty it was hard to remain troubled. A person's worries melted away on First Beach.
Because I didn't have a license I had to walk a total of five miles alongside the road. Needless to say it took a while for me to get to the beach and by the time I got there the winter sun was in the middle of setting. I looked at my cell phone's clock and it was only five-thirty. I let out a sigh and sitting on a piece of driftwood took a sketch-pad and pencil from my back-pack. I began to sketch without having an end result in mind. I always drew whenever something was bothering me and my hand moved across the paper without my supervision. My mind drifted to Jared. He had to be sick. Not a single person had seen him in the past twenty-four hours. My mind pictured his long well-muscled body lying across a bed, while sweat trickled through his gorgeous four-inch long hair and his face contorted into a grimace of discomfort. I felt a pang in my stomach. What if he was deathly ill? What if he'd had an accident? What if he was-? No I was letting my imagination break away from reality. Jared was sick and he'd get better soon. A big strong, healthy teenager didn't disappear. Or at least that was what I tried to convince myself of.
I knew almost every feature of his face by heart and began to picture it in order to keep away from unwanted thoughts. His high Quileute cheekbones underneath russet skin appeared in my mind. His face was more mature than the typical seventeen year old, it was a dark, handsome face. His lips were full but not feminine, and he had wide gorgeous brown eyes that hinted of dark secrets. I pictured the curve of his brow and the way his curly hair fell over his eyes so that he always looked like he had just gotten out of bed. His hair was irresistible and whenever I saw him I wanted to run my fingers through his gorgeous black locks. The face that formed in my mind was loved, but what about the person behind it? I wanted to know that person, wanted to be the one who made him smile. His smiles were things of beauty that could make any girl swoon, but what about the reasons behind them? The unanswered questions swirled through my mind, driving me mad.
He could never be known to me. He didn't know that I was even alive. The thought was too much and made me curl in on myself as the unstoppable tears fell. I didn't want to love someone I didn't know. I was too scared of rejection to talk to him and would therefore never get to know him. The fact that I loved him with my whole being wouldn't change the way he saw me if he didn't know I felt that way. The longing for him to turn and see me, the desire to understand him, and the sense of the blessing I had to be able to see him increased by the hour. i felt these things times a thousand and they made up a large portion of who I was. Consequently all the things I wished to be rid of were things I couldn't live without .
Underneath all the violently wrong emotions existed the hope of seeing him tomorrow. I smiled without humor, the irony of life kept mounting. I never wanted to see him again, and yet I also wanted to see his warm smile that instant. It was as my dream self had said I was hopelessly, unhealthily and desperately in love with Jared.
I wiped the tears from my eyes and stood up. A fierce determination began to fill me. I would talk to Jared the next time I saw him. Even if it was only to ask for a pencil that I already had, I would speak to him. Fear coupled the anticipation that came from the thought. I would probably be thoroughly sick afterwards, but Jared will have spoken to me. He will have noticed me and however unimportant the observation about the tiny girl asking for a pencil was, he still would have made it. I would no longer be alone for lack of trying. Keeping to myself was, as Maria had said, not making me any happier. I was tired of wallowing inside the fantasies of a nonexistent love. The only way I could let go of Jared Ash was by being shut down by him.
Seconds after I made this decision I remembered that asking for a pencil wouldn't change anything. There was no way I could ask him out or confess my feelings to him, especially after that haunting dream. I'd have to settle for becoming a casual acquaintance, and maybe even a friend. With the thought of Jared as a friend I was, for the first time in a while, genuinely happy.
As I picked up my things I glanced down at my sketch. It was of a lone wolf in a forlorn wood. There was a pain in his eyes that startled me. I looked closely at the picture. There was something in those wide lonely eyes that disconcerted me. I was still looking at the picture as I walked off the beach and headed toward the road. I knew the path well enough to be able to walk without having to look and continued to stare at the picture. I was halfway home when I realized what it was. The sorrowful eyes that filled the wolf's face were that of a human's. The eyes resembled Jared's so much, that for a moment, I thought his soul was looking out at me from the drawing. I shook that thought from my mind, this was just some doodle I'd made while on the beach. I should have thrown the useless sketch out, but for some indiscernible reason I couldn't let go of those sad, lonely, eyes. They looked like they had watched their world crumble down around them and for some reason I wanted to be the thing that stitched it back together again. That of course was a mentally defective reaction, it was a picture I couldn't save it from its pain.
I didn't sleep well that night, or any other night of that week, bad dreams about grey wolves filled my mind. The days went on. I went to school and sat through English and math with the hope of seeing Jared in history. Every day I walked into my third period class with an elevated heart-rate only to have it plummet five minutes later when my anticipation turned into disappointment. My hopes irrational hopes would come back to me as I walked into the lunchroom with Maria and then fall again when the only people at his usual table were Paul and his other nameless friends. I wanted him to come to school so I could follow through with the course of action on which I had decided. He didn't come back, and as the days wore on I realized that I wouldn't be able to fulfill my self promise. Not because I was chicken, but because Jared didn't come to school.
