Title: Sunburst
Author: Across the Stars
Rating: T/PG-13 [Rating Subject to Change
Pairings: Jacob/OFC, slight Edward/Bella
Summary: REPOST. After being sent to La Push to pull together a production of a musical as her audition to a prestigious choreography school, Katie learns that love can be found, even when you're not looking for it. [POST ECLIPSE; a year has passed since the events of Eclipse
[[[I didn't like the feel of this chapter, so I decided to tweak it a bit
Hey,
little apple blossom, what seems to be the problem? All the ones you
tell your troubles to, they don't really care for you…
The
White Stripes-Apple Blossom
I laid my head back on the seat of the taxicab that was currently sloshing towards my new "home". I liked to refer to it as The Project, though. Home, to me, was sunny Fernandina Beach, Florida. That's where I had lived for eighteen years, and I most definitely wasn't happy about having to move all the way across the country to get into a college. What about my friends? I would have nobody here, no one to share inside jokes with, no one that would understand me as well as they did. I adjusted my headphones and closed my eyes, remembering how it had all happened.
1-1-1-1
I had gotten a tentative acceptance to the Burkhardt Institute of Choreography and Production, which happened to be the school of my dreams. After realizing that I was most definitely not cut out for life in a dance company, I decided to try choreography. To my surprise, I enjoyed it. I didn't have to worry about the catty dancers that filled my life with drama, or horrendous rehearsal schedules. It was just me and the mirror, dreaming up any dance I wanted. I flew up to Burkhardt, which was in Boston, and performed a piece that I had choreographed for them. I had never been so nervous in my entire life, more nervous than I had been when I auditioned for my company. I must have pulled it off, though, because a week later, I got a call telling me that I had to fly back up for a "personalized project".
The "personalized project" turned out to be a little more involved than I had thought. There were seven applicants and five spaces left for the new term. They had to have a system of choosing the students, so the creative director, Ms. Grant, came up with the whole idea. There were seven slips of paper in a hat, and we each had to choose one. "Oh God, what if it's a yes or a no?" I thought. I was terrified that I was going to be rejected. The other applicants looked just as nervous as I did. An African-American girl who was sitting next to me gave me a tiny smile and mouthed "good luck". I smiled back, but I didn't think she saw.
When we had each picked a piece of paper, Ms. Grant told us to open them. I held my breath and opened my slip, hands shaking madly. I looked down, and saw that it only had one word written on it, "CATS". Everyone was looking at Ms. Grant now, confusion on their faces. The smiling girl looked at me and said, "I got A Chorus Line, what did you get?"
"CATS", I replied. Ms. Grant cleared her throat and motioned for everyone to be quiet.
"Now, you all have a show written on your slip of paper. As I call of your name, I will tell you what city you will be staging it in." What? Did she want us to put on an entire production? Alone? This woman was insane!
"Laura Adams, you will take New Orleans." The girl sitting next to me nodded and said, "Sure". After calling a few more names, Ms. Grant read mine off.
"Katherine Williams, you have an Indian Reservation in Northwestern Washington State. See me after."
"Alright, let me explain this to you," said Ms. Grant. "In order to choose which applicants to accept, we have devised this system. Each of you will go to your city and put together your show, and stage a production. Now, we at Burkhardt Institute do not expect them to be Broadway quality, but expect to see your ability to teach and pull together a show on command. You will have until October 1st to complete your show, at which time I and other faculty members will come and evaluate your production. Your performance on this project will determine whether you will be accepted at Burkhardt. I suggest booking your plane tickets now, so you can have as much time as possible. The production is open to any community member, but be warned, if you have help staging the show, we will know. That is all, and good luck. Ms. Williams, a moment?"
I gulped. Was I in trouble? And what did she mean by Indian Reservation? I walked up to Ms. Grant and took a deep breath. "Yes, ma'am?"
"Katherine, there are several Indian Reservations in that general area, and we though that you might want to pick."
"Uh, okay," I said. This was weird…
"There are La Push, and the Makah and Hoquiam reservations," she explained crisply.
"Umm…" How was I supposed to pick? "La Push, I guess." At least I wouldn't have any trouble remembering how to pronounce it.
"Alright, I will call the elders and make the necessary arrangements for your stay."
"Thanks, Ms. Grant. I really am grateful to have this opportunity, and…" I trailed off, embarrassed.
"That's nice, dear." She smiled at me and took a step away, looking at a notepad. I took this as my signal to leave.
As I walked back to my hotel, I was lost in thought. How on Earth would I put on a production of Cats in a town full of people who had no dance training at all? And worst of all, my performance would determine whether I got into Burkhardt or not! I couldn't risk not being accepted. How was I supposed to handle this? I knew that the original show was staged and choreographed in something insane, like five weeks, but I was an amateur! I felt sick when I opened the door to my room. My general reaction to stress was a mental breakdown, complete with profuse tears and crippling insecurity. As if I needed that right now. I had to stay focused. Just stay focused, I repeated to myself. I could get through this.
1-1-1-1-1
So here I was, in La Push, Washington. I flew into the Sea-Tac airport in Port Angeles an hour ago, and it hadn't stopped raining yet. The trees were getting denser outside my window and I wondered how far away from civilization we were going. If I wasn't close to a decent Soon, the cab pulled up in front of a shabby red house. Funny, I had been expecting a hotel.
"That'll be 48 dollars, ma'am," said the cabby. Sheesh, that was pretty steep for a measly cab ride. I pulled a wad of bills from my pocked and extracted my fare, handing it to the driver. "Thanks," I said, climbing out of the cab. The door of the house opened, and a man in a wheelchair rolled himself out, flanked by two shirtless men, both of whom were very tall, and very densely muscled. I groaned as I stepped out into the drizzle. My tightly curled brown hair would turn into an afro in this weather. I pulled it back into a ponytail and pulled the hood of my jacket over my head. I smiled at the men, and walked towards them.
"Hello, I'm Billy Black," said the man in the wheelchair. "This is my son Jacob," he indicated towards the taller man, and I realized that he wasn't exactly a man, more of an extremely overgrown teenager. He lifted his hand in response, and I smiled and nodded. "And this is Sam Uley, Jacob's…friend. You must be Katherine Williams."
"Oh, please call me Katie, Mr. Black. I'm very glad to be here." I figured it was best to be extremely polite. The boy named Jacob snorted. I glared at him.
"What, you think I'm not?" I asked him. He didn't even know me, and here he was snorting at me!
"No one's glad to be in La Push," he explained. "Well, I am." I said indignantly. Actually, I wasn't, but I wasn't about to let him know that. He eyed me suspiciously. What? I wondered.
"Well, then, Katie. Just call me Billy," he replied affably. I shot one last glare at Jacob and turned to Billy.
"Will do, sir."
Billy sent a meaningful look in the boys' direction. They moved towards the trunk of the cab and began unloading my luggage. I followed them, embarrassed by the sheer amount of my possessions. "We got it," the one name Sam said. I fell back, only stopping to grab my purse.
I followed everyone inside. The house was small, but cozy. I was a little unsure of what was going on. Wasn't I going to a hotel? I positioned myself next to the door in case I had to run. The boys started dragging my luggage down a hall. I wavered, unsure of whether to follow them. Billy saw the look of uncertainty on my face and said, "You'll be staying here with us, of course. There aren't any hotels nearby." I nodded.
"Thank you for your hospitality. I'll pull my own weight around here." He nodded.
"We don't exactly have a dance studio, but we have a Community Center, if that'll work." I blanched. No dance studio? That was just great. I almost gave him one of my famous eye rolls, then remembered that it wasn't his fault that there wasn't a dance studio.
Nodding, I said, "That'll be wonderful."
1-1-1-1
A few minutes later, I was in my new "room" and starting to feel a little worse for wear. It's not that the room was bad, it was just…small. Smaller than I was used to, at least. At home, my sister's and my rooms took up the entire second story. The first thing I grabbed was my faithful Bose iPod dock. How I loved it! It played my iPod faithfully, with amazing sound. I plugged the system into the wall, and set it on top of the dresser. Hanging above the dresser was a mirror with a whitewashed frame. I scrutinized my reflection, observing the effects of cross-country travel. My normally bright blue eyes were dull, and there were shadows under them. My makeup was smeared, so I licked my finger and attempted to neaten it up a bit. My freckles had faded in the absence of intense sunlight, and I looked washed out. Boy, I was a looker.
I grabbed the first suitcase on the floor, and slung it on to the twin sized bed, unzipping it with a flourish. I realized it was my "undergarments" suitcase, and opened the top drawer of the dresser. I put in the first pile of underwear, then turned around to get another stack. Once I had some more undies, I turned back around, only to see Jacob Black leaning casually against my dresser. In my surprise, I jumped, and the underwear went everywhere.
"Uh…" I started to say something, and then realized that I was standing like a lunatic covered in underwear. I dropped to the floor and started grabbing anything resembling lingerie. When I stood back up, he was still there, only this time, he was holding out a pair of blue cotton panties.
"You missed these," he smirked. I reached out and plucked them from his hand, turning bright red as I did so. I stuffed the pile into the drawer, and then turned around to face him, sticking my hands in the pockets of my jeans as I did so.
"So Billy says once you're unpacked, I should take you down to the Community Center so you can check it out." He said, eyeing me up and down. I zipped my jacket up and crossed my arms across my chest, not that there was much to look at.
"Yeah, that sounds good," I replied, managing to keep my tone even. I would get a chance to see what I had to work with.
"Just find me when you're done, and I'll take you down there," he said. "I'm not going anywhere, so I shouldn't be too hard to find.
"Okay then," I said, turning back to my unpacking and hoping the awkward conversation was done with.
I pulled my iPod out of my Vera Bradley purse and put it in the Bose, hitting Shuffle. I was a firm believer in the fact that songs could asses a situation better than any amount of human cogitation could, so I left the analysis to my iPod.
I am his, you are his, you are me and we are all together. See how they run like pigs from a gun, see how they fly…
Well, that was helpful, I thought sarcastically. I shook my head and channeled all my energy into unpacking, forgoing though in favor for the mindless oblivion of being lost in music.
1-1-1-1-1
A/N: So, what did you guys think? I wasn't happy with the way the first chapter was when I posted it, so I tweaked it a little bit. Leave me a review and tell me your opinion. Oh, and the first reviewer to guess the song gets a Jacob/Wolf-shaped batch of cookies!
-ATS