P i n k
or
How Jacob Taught Bella To be A Girl
We do not stop playing because we grow old.
We grow old because we stop playing.
Anon
o o o
"Jacob Black, this is by far the most ridiculous idea you've ever had. And believe me, since I can judge that better than you; you've had a lot of ridiculous ideas. But this is a new height."
"Hey, that is hardly fair, Bells. I'm just trying to help here."
We stood there, almost seven feet apart, facing each other. My face was blank for the most part except for my wrinkled forehead, my hands locked at my waist while Jacob had that boyish grin etched onto his so un-boyish features. His eyes were beaming with anticipation and excitement.
"Your definition of help is as odd as those thorny, gaudy sea-things you have all over your bathroom windowsill."
"They're sea urchins, Bella. And I've told you about five-thousand times that my sisters used to collect them when they were little. And they do look nice on that windowsill. I really don't know what it is you don't like about them."
"They scare the hell out of me every time I use your bathroom. It's like they are about to jump at me and shred me to pieces any minute. And I don't get what your attempt on helping me should be worth," I said furiously, drawing quotation marks in the air with my fingers to emphasise Jacob's ridiculous notion of help.
"Well, I thought that since you feel offended by Embry's… ´fear`, I should do something about it. Help him overcome his fear so you don't feel offended by it anymore."
"And you plan on accomplishing that with… nail polish?"
"Bella… you told me that you feel offended by what Embry said–"
"I never said it like that!"
"But you feel like it nevertheless, don't you? And I hate it when you feel bad, especially since this is about me and it was my buddy who made you feel this way."
I would never admit that he was right. Never. But of course, as always, he was one hundred percent correct.
I felt so childish and pathetic about that truth that I would much rather decorate my entire house with those ugly… sea urchins than admitting that Embry Call had offended me by saying that he was afraid I might be a rival for him when it came to Jake's best buddy because I was so un-girlish and tomboyish.
He had meant it in a funny way, giving me a pat on the shoulder after saying it. I knew that. But it still had hit me far below the belt.
I was never really that kind of girl – the kind who cares much about looks and being appreciated for exactly that. Never, especially with Jacob, had it felt necessary for me to prove that I was female. Maybe it was safe to say that I took it for granted that everyone around me saw me as such.
So being in a competition for best buddy seemed like a hit in the face with a brick; or better: one of those sea urchins.
But I would never, ever admit that.
"Jake, you seriously should stop thinking."
"Maybe. Maybe not. So, wanna get started?"
If it had not been such a stupid, immature idea I would have been delighted by the electric, glowing smile on Jacob's face – the unflinching penetration of light and warmth.
Instead, I groaned. Loudly. Too loud.
"Maybe you should work on that, too. I don't think that Embry considers that sound girly."
"You know, maybe you missed it, but I don't think I really ever intended to impress Embry."
"I wouldn't like that. But come on – it'll be fun."
And then he had me. Like a mouse that a cat has by the tail. All of a sudden my anger was flushed away, the power of his smile, his anticipation, his warmth finally succeeding in seducing me.
Surrendering, I rolled my eyes in a last attempt to maintain my dignity before Jacob grinned even more, resembling a lunatic now, and caught my arm to drag me to the couch.
With a thud I fell into the cushions and eyed Jacob, who was still towering over me, his eyebrows close together – a fake expression of reflectiveness.
"Trying to gain some extra years with that look, Jake?"
He pouted his lips at me, making him look so much younger for a second before he crushed his massive body into the cushions next to me, the impact almost making me jump from the couch as if it was an oversized spring.
"Give me your hand."
I sighed as I watched Jacob pull out a small bottle from the back pocket of his cut-off jeans and quickly opening the closure. It looked as strange as every time his big hands delicately worked with diminutive items.
"Pink? Come on, Jake."
"No backing out now, Bells."
He grabbed my right hand gently, resting it on top of his own, the heat a pleasant contrast to my ice-cold fingers, which were still tumid and puckered from the almost freezing water in the sink.
With a sudden look of professionalism on his face, Jacob slowly began to paint my short fingernails with the bright pink colour, the acrid smell burning my nose.
I admired how accurately he worked, and doubted that even Jessica Stanley was able to paint her nails that perfectly. Not a single drop of nail polish missed my nail or smeared on the soft skin around it.
"Do I get anything in return for having to walk around like Barbie?"
My voice was surprisingly low and husky, my eyes focused intently on the slow work Jacob's hand performed. It had an unexplainable aura of sacredness around it.
He chuckled softly.
"Maybe Embry will imprint on you. Then he can be your Ken."
For a second it was absolutely mute in the room, the only sound I could hear was my own calm breathing. And then we simultaneously broke into laughter at the mental image of Embry and me, dressed up as Barbie and Ken in front of a flashy rosy house, shallow white-teethed smiles on our flawless faces.
"Hey, hold still or I'll ruin it."
"Oh, I doubt you would," I said, trying to regain my composure. "You are doing an excellent job."
"Well, just one of my many talents."
He lifted his chin slightly, his eyes meeting mine. For a second I considered my chances and then I decided to shamelessly take advantage of his player-behaviour. He deserved that, after all.
As fast as my weak senses allowed me, I grabbed the filigree brush covered in the sticky nail polish from Jacob's hand and smeared the paint onto his raised nose.
Surprisingly this action only took me about two seconds, and not even Jacob had time to react duly.
"Bah, Bells! What was that for?"
He wrinkled his nose in disgust, his eyes focusing so low as he tried to eye the color at the very tip of his nose and it made him look even more ridiculous than the pink paint already did.
"For your lack of modesty," I said with mock authority in my voice while I proudly regarded my work, beholding it for excellence.
"This is disgusting," Jacob muttered under his breath before he met my gaze again.
I stuck my tongue out before laughing again, the warmth of Jacob's soon following smile pervading the room with the ease and love which radiated from him so much more than from any other person I knew.
o o o
It was not until five years later that I found out the real reason for Jacob's talent in painting nails; a picture of 5-year-old Jake, his long hair in two braids, a red satin scarf around his neck, surrounded by Rachel and Rebecca Black who flashed a triumphant smile towards the camera while their little brother, caught in their middle, looked as if he had his very first out-of-body-experience.
What caught my eye and made me smile to myself were his perfectly polished nails, shiny pink, reflecting the camera's flash.
And the accurate row of gaudy sea urchins on a windowsill in the background.
I kept that discovery a secret, planning to someday simply pinning it on our fridge.
Maybe Valentines Day…