Voila! Chapter Two is now here! When we last left Lorelai, she had gone to Seattle with her dad and met a mysterious couple of benefactors...now we start getting into the good stuff...
Disclaimer: All characters from Twilight are property of Stephanie Meyer...except for a few certain who belong to me
Drumroll Please...
Chapter Two
The other reason why this particular hotel had my stamp of approval? Free continental breakfast and unlimited coffee. Enough said.
I was up around nine the next morning, waking up in a cold sweat. I had been dreaming about running to something, someone, and away from danger. I had known that if I didn't make it, I would die. And it wouldn't be a nice kind of death; it would involve a high intensity of pain.
Let's just say that I was incredibly pleased when I found myself in the hotel, the sun blocked by the thick, patterned curtains draped in front of the windows. I could hear the sink running from the bathroom and yawned, twisting my torso this way and that to crack my back. My dad came out wearing a ratty old Chicago t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts and athletic shoes.
"I'm going down to the gym to work out," he said, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini fridge. I rolled my eyes, as if what he was wearing wasn't obvious enough. "After breakfast, I was thinking about heading on down to the coast to do some more research. Want to come?"
"Where are you going?" I asked curiously.
"To the Quileute Reservation, La Push. I've been reading up on some of their culture and I think that actually spending the day down there might be a good idea."
"What are you going to find on a Reservation? Apart from whale watching?" I asked, glancing at the tourist pamphlet he had left on the nightstand. Apart from beautiful scenery and a picture of three whales breaching the murky Pacific waters, I couldn't find anything that would serve my father's purpose for his third novel. He waggled his eyebrows at me.
"That's for me to know, and for you to wait for," he said vaguely. It was a running joke that nobody knew what my dad was planning for a book until the last possible second, including his agent, publisher and editor. It was maddening.
He leaned over and kissed my forehead, grabbing a white terry towel on his way out the door. I took my time getting out of bed, flipping through channels until I found a morning cartoon that I hadn't seen in years. I stepped into the scalding shower, scrubbing my hair with the vanilla and cherry blossom scented shampoo I had packed and allowing the conditioner to soak. It felt amazing to shower, like scrubbing off the previous night and waiting to embrace the new day. I rinsed out my hair and wrapped myself in a soft robe, turban wrapping a towel around my head.
I took care to blow out every single strand of my thick black hair, watching as the artificial light caught the blue sheen in its richness. Once I was dry, I changed into my favorite sweats, an aqua colored loose fit pair of pants and matching jacket from Victoria's Secret that Noelle had gotten me a few years back. I put on a plain tank top and flip flops, grabbed my key and phone, and then made my way to the café in the lobby, where breakfast was still being served.
The café had a Shinto shrine theme, complete with a natural rock waterfall and a pond of orange and white Koi fish. Every table was complete with either a square dish of river pebbles, or a tree branch candelabra, or a beautiful assortment of Bonsai trees and bamboo shoots. I found an empty table and claimed it, immediately being served a cup of coffee and cranberry juice. This continental breakfast was different, in that it wasn't an immediate buffet with cheap bagels and packets of Philadelphia cream cheese, favorites I hadn't realized I'd missed until I returned from Bangkok.
I ordered the stuffed French Toast, apple smoked sausage, a side of eggs, sunny side up, and their fruit bowl, ignoring the curious look the waitress gave me. I was absolutely ravenous, as I usually was in the morning, and ten bucks would say that not a single piece of food would be left for the staff to pick up.
Damn. I should have found someone to take the bet.
(OoOoOoO)
I decided to dress comfortably in a pair of dark wash jeans, black flats and a crimson sweater that had a plunging v-neck I'd picked up in London last year. Good thing too, because the drive from Seattle to La Push Reservation was practically four hours, even without stops. I might have fallen asleep, listening to my dad's favorite classical section. Italian opera was always soothing.
When the road turned to dirt, I was jolted awake to a vision of green. Like a shot of caffeine, I was alert and awake, the nature calling to me in a refreshing way that reminded me of home. My dad saw the way I sat up in the car and smiled, looking just as relaxed to be away from modern civilization. He turned the radio down, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.
"I'm going to stop by the convenience store for directions on where the best place to whale watch is," he said, starting to pass by several buildings. They each looked to have been hand constructed, cozy and well worn. "You can check out First Beach if you want."
I nodded; he knew how much I loved the beach. Sitting in the darkened sand, watching the dark waves crash against the cliffs…it would be perfect. "Sounds good. We can meet back up at the Rivers Edge whenever you're ready. I brought a book so I'll be pretty good for a while."
"Alright then," he agreed, pulling into a parking lot for the Marina. I grabbed my book and cell phone, folding a quilt over my arm at the last second; it was still kind of chilly out, even though the mist had let up after last night. The convenience store was a little ways off to the sides from the docks, so I gave my dad a hug and made my way through the dense trees, carefully stepping over fallen trees and leaves dripping fresh rain.
My first view of First Beach was one of subtle beauty. The sand was darker here, more eroded rocks ground into the mixture than in other places. The Pacific was uncharacteristically calm, its navy waters lapping lazily against the stones and shells that made up the water line. Several large areas seemed to be places where bonfires were frequently held, and I spotted a large white driftwood tree sitting further down. The perfect place to lounge.
The wood was thoroughly rotted, easily breaking off if I forced enough pressure on it. I climbed on top, laying the quilt down first and propping my back up on one of the larger boughs. I had a direct view of the ocean, and the cliffs to the right, granite stone glittering under the shaded sun. I cracked open the book, enjoying the soft breeze that carried the scent of salt and brine through my hair.
It might have been an hour into my serene morning when I heard the roar of ruckus laughter. It seemed distant at first, so I ignored it, but when it started to sound like its very own thunderstorm, I couldn't help but look up in surprise. A group of maybe a dozen men were barreling towards the beach like a pack of crazed lunatics. They were all huge and athletic, several tackling one another only to roll up onto their feet and sprint away. But it wasn't just their infectious laughter or the obvious enjoyment they got by just hanging out together that made me stare; it was that I had never seen such a group of handsome guys who seriously just walked around in nothing but cutoff shorts.
Every single one of them must have been twenty or older, and unless there was some shady steroid dealing going on in the reservation, there had to be something in the water. I mean, you don't just have a pack of well built, pretty much sexy-all-the-way guys running around by random. I couldn't help but wonder if any of them were single…
"Ten bucks says Paul gets knocked to the ground by one of the newbies," someone called amidst hoots of laughter.
"Yeah right! They'll be shaking in their fur!" someone else said.
"Guys, cool it," came a deeper voice. It was the man in the front, obviously the leader of the group. At his command, the group immediately became less rowdy, settling for elbowing each other.
"Whoa, guys, we got company," the person on the right of the leader piped up, his dark eyes glued to where I was sitting on the tree. A cold panic seeped over my skin as every pair of eyes latched onto me.
Slowing down to a more normal pace, they walked over to me, giving me time to close my book and right myself before being confronted by the intimidating group of natives. I ran my fingers through my hair, the familiar gesture comforting. The group stopped, the leader smiling kindly.
"Hello. I'm Sam Uley."
I smiled. "Hi, I'm Lorelai Savione. Sorry, I didn't mean to be someplace I shouldn't be."
He laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle, and shook his head. "You're fine, I didn't come over here to kick you out. I just thought I'd introduce us before you took off, terrified."
"Well, you all are a terrifying bunch," I conceded with a grin, earning several hoots and hollers from the group.
Sam introduced the whole group, and I had to really concentrate to remember them all. Sam, Paul, Jared, Collin, Brady, Simon, Tommy, Andrew, Cale, Tuck, and Zach; if I hadn't known that they all had different last names, apart from Tommy and Tuck who were fraternal twins, I would have assumed them all to be brothers, with identical hair cuts, deep tans and white smiles.
"So, where are you from?" Collin, an energetic youth with way too much confidence, leaned next to me, trying to pull off the kind of grin that pick-up artists mastered. I smothered a laugh, watching as two more, the twins, raced into the water to find the sharpest shells.
"Everywhere," I said with a smile. "Born and occasionally raised in upstate New York."
"Occasionally raised?" Brady asked. I could tell that they were best friends, like two parts of the same person. They finished each other's thoughts and questions.
"My dad's job required him to be mobile," I explained, folding my legs underneath me. "So I spent my childhood in France and England, sometimes Ireland. I spent a year in Morocco and another in Shanghai. I've been to practically everywhere."
Jared whistled, grinning widely. "A bona fide globe trotter. Where haven't you been?"
I thought about it, listing the countries as they appeared. "Vietnam, Iceland, Afghanistan, Mongolia, Nebraska, Wyoming, and here. Probably way more, but those are the ones that first come to mind."
Paul laughed, elbowing Jared in the side. "Eh, too cultured for you, huh, Jare-bear?"
I blushed, hiding my smile behind my curtain of hair. Jared smirked, giving me a half hearted wink before tackling Paul off of the tree and into the sand. I looked over to Sam, but he was busy talking to several of the others, namely Simon, Andrew, and Cale, who, according to Brady, were the second youngest here, around sixteen. They certainly didn't look sixteen.
"Ha! Sam, can't you keep your guys under control?" came a booming laugh. I looked over my shoulder towards the trees, where another of the Quileute natives was walking out, dressed similarly in a pair of khaki shorts. He was maybe a few inches taller than Sam, and broader, but no less handsome and intimidating. He walked with long, confident strides, his head quirking to the side as he took in the situation. His smile faltered when he saw me.
I swallowed, immediately feeling as if I needed to impress this new guy more than Sam or the others. He had an air of authority that was tangible, and surprisingly, I got the same curious feeling I'd gotten last night around the Cullens. I was wary, and I had to squash the irrational fear rising in my chest and the desire to sprint far, far away.
"Like you could do any better, Jake!" Paul taunted, breaking away from Jared as the jubilation to fight subsided. "Where are the rest of them? Lost in the woods?"
Right on cue, several more people came out of the trees, grinning and laughing with one another. I started shaking, and I wrapped my arms around myself. What was wrong with me? There were three more massive guys and, much to my surprise, a woman, wearing cut off shorts and a tank top, her raven black hair cut jaggedly at her shoulder. She sneered at Paul.
"Shut it, Paul, or I'll rip you so hard-"
"Leah!"
The sharp, loud command shook me so hard that I flinched, gaining the attention of the second group of Quileute's. The woman, Leah, looked at me in surprise, shushing the three boys behind her.
"Jacob, this is Lorelai. She's a tourist," Sam said, shrugging his shoulders to dispel the sudden tension.
"Yeah, and she's practically been to every country in the world!" Simon said, smiling at me widely.
Jacob seemed to relax, as if my presence, now explained, was of no threat to him. He smiled lazily, and I found myself growing less nervous and flighty than I had before.
"I apologize," Jacob said, his voice deep and sincere. "You took me off guard. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Jacob Black."
"Hello, Jacob," I greeted, smiling a bit as I unwound myself. "Lorelai Savione. No offense, but you kind of startled me, too."
His head ducked in shame, as if I was his mother, scolding him for jumping out at me in a mask. "Allow me to introduce the rest of this ridiculous posse." Several people chuckled, and Leah rolled her eyes. "Leah Clearwater," she nodded in my direction, shooting a glare behind me at Paul, who was giving her a gesture that was an obvious try to egg her on. I wondered if he had a death wish, because I would never want to mess with Leah. Jacob went on with the rest, each person either nodding or waving or smiling as their name was called. "Embry Call, Quil Atera, and Gabriel Watts."
"Nice to meet you all," I smiled. After the introductions, everyone went about their business; Gabriel joined Simon, Andrew, and Cale by the shore, and I assumed that he must be the same age, or a bit older than them. Tuck and Tommy, the two youngest at fourteen (yeah freaking right!) joined Collin and Brady in racing down the beach, collecting driftwood as a competition.
Embry and Quil pulled out a pack of cards and sat on the sand with Paul and Jared, and soon a pile of cash appeared in the center as the bets got higher and higher. Leah was off to the side, pulling a cell phone out of her pocket and dialing it to talk with someone. Jacob and Sam stood ankle deep in the ocean, talking quietly. The whole scene was decidedly cozy and small town-like, where everyone knew everyone and was considered a huge family, instead of just neighbors.
With a jolt, I realized that I did not belong here.
I checked my phone and decided that I could hang out at the restaurant for a half hour until Dad came in. Quietly, and without gathering any attention, I started to collect my things.
"Hey, Jake, where's Seth?" Collin asked. There was still another person? Oh yeah, I was leaving…ASAP.
"On his way," he said smirking. "Sue caught us right as we were heading down here and kidnapped him to take out the garbage."
"Yeah, my little brother needs to learn to put his rear in gear," Leah smirked, rolling her eyes. Ah. Seth was actually Seth Clearwater, younger brother to Leah. Interesting tidbit.
The group laughed, and I could only assume that Sue must be someone's mother, or an elder with a nasty bite. I folded the quilt over my arm and slid off of the tree as quickly as I could. Apparently my stealth was a bit rusty, because Jared looked up from the card game with a wrinkled brow.
"Where are you going, Lorelai?" he asked. I froze, caught in the act of fleeing.
Everyone's eyes were suddenly glued to me, including Leah, who was still on the phone; Sam was looking at me with a surprised look on his face, as if I'd done something that he had never considered before, and Jacob was wearing a smug grin that screamed, "I told ya so."
"Oh, um, I'm meeting my dad at the Rivers Edge for lunch. It was really nice meeting you all."
I turned around, my forced smile fading as soon as I faced for the trees. I hurried forward, wondering if it would look strange if I straight out sprinted for the woods. Yeah, probably not a good idea.
I tucked a piece of wayward hair behind my ear, muttering under my breath about what possibly could be the source of the Quileute boys' (and girl) height and strength. And attractiveness, a small voice reminded me smugly. I kept my eyes on the ground, watching as my shoes sank less and less into the ground, the sand turning to soil and stone instead. Just a few more paces and I'd be safe inside the forest, on my way to ridding myself of embarrassment for good. I hadn't felt this self conscious since I was fifteen, and let me tell you, I was in no hurry to revisit that lovely time of my life.
Please note the sarcasm, would you?
Because I was staring at my feet, it was inevitable that I would run into something. By the time I realized this, it was too late, and I suddenly found myself knocking into some kind of boulder. And damn did it hurt!
I dropped my quilt and book, my forehead throbbing in pain as I lost my balance and started falling backwards. I braced for impact, so to speak, not really looking forward to the butt-bruise I most certainly was going to have in the morning. I just couldn't believe that I had been so dense as to not realize I was walking right into a rock!
About a second or two before I should've hit the ground, I was enveloped in heat. The chill that had seeped into the marrow of my bones melted away, and the goose bumps covering every inch of my body all together disappeared. I was basking in the blessed warmth when I realized I hadn't hit the ground yet, and that the source of the heat was coming from the two long, muscular arms wrapped around my torso, keeping me precariously close to the ground.
My eyes flew open, and while I subconsciously realized that I hadn't known they were closed in the first place, I was too entranced with the owner of those two arms. He was gigantic, maybe six foot four or five, broad across the shoulders, and covered in warm russet skin, pulled taught over well defined tendons and muscles. His short hair was an inky black, not quite as blue-black like my own, and his eyes were the deepest shade of dark chocolate I had ever seen. He had a strong, square jaw, which was hanging wide in shock, and a sharp defining nose. Those amazingly chocolate eyes were wide and shining in something I didn't understand, and the entire expression on his face…
It was as if he were a blind man seeing the sun for the first time.
My hands were clutching his forearms of their own accord, a self preservation instinct that had kicked in as I fell and was caught. The man holding me suddenly lost his star struck expression, realizing that I was about an inch from the ground and at a very awkward angle. He straightened up so fast that I lost my sense of equilibrium, stumbling against him as my vision realigned itself.
My brain chose that moment to start working again, which was both a good and bad thing. It was good, because I took a deep breath of air and started functioning on my own again. It was bad, because when I inhaled, I noticed that the guy was shirtless, wearing only a pair of denim cutoffs that rode low on his hips, and that he smelled good…really, really good. Cinnamon and sea spray and juniper wood.
My cheeks flamed in embarrassment and I untangled myself from him as quickly as I could, taking four steps back and wrapping my arms around myself at the sudden burst of chill. I had forgotten how cold it was. His arms were still extended out, and he looked like he wanted to come closer and shelter me from the cool air, which did sound very appealing.
What was so odd was the fact that our eyes were locked on one another, and even if I had wanted to tear my gaze away from him, which, let's face it, I didn't, I couldn't have. And from the looks of it, it seemed to be the same for him. We stood there staring at each other for what felt like hours, but in reality was only a few more seconds. It wasn't until I heard footsteps and the snapping of a branch that I was snapped out of the trance, quickly looking over my shoulder. The Quileute boys had gathered into a large group, curious at the spectacle.
A few of the guys had knowing looks masking their expressions, as if they completely understood what was happening right now. Surprisingly, Paul, who I expected to be doing something immature and stupid, had a soft smile on his face, and for the first time, I wondered if maybe there were more sides to these natives than I originally thought.
Sam and Jacob moved forward through the group, Jacob taking the lead almost immediately. Was that a mild tone of irritation I saw on Sam's face? Probably not, since now he was staring openly at someone other than me and Mystery Man. I followed his line of vision and balked.
Leah.
Her eyes were wide, snapping from Jacob to M.M. to me and back around the circuit. There was no hostility in the way she held her open mouth, but she was shaking, quivering violently, as if she'd gotten way too cold. Sam took a step toward her, but her hand shot up so quickly that I blinked. Without any warning, her black eyes were up and narrowed, glaring in cold fury at me.
I staggered back, an instinct of fear, of run or be killed, coursing through my veins. I didn't take a single step back when I collided with someone. The sudden heat that was like a soothing balm to my frazzled nerves could only mean one thing. I glanced over my shoulder and saw only bare, tanned skin; Mystery Man was right behind me.
Leah was still shaking, her eyes glued on me, the tendons of her arms flexing over her balled fists. I knew that I would never want to be against Leah in a fight after spending five minutes with her. And without realizing her, I'd promoted myself to her enemy.
Great job, Lore, I chastised myself. She was shaking so hard that I thought she would burst, and I cowered back against M.M., leaning into his rock hard body for support. His left arm snaked around my waist, the right wrapping around the front of my shoulders as he pulled me closer. I couldn't see his face but I could feel the tension in him and wondered if maybe he was nervous about Leah too. For whatever reason, I knew without a doubt that I was safe with him, despite not knowing anything about him, including his name. I watched warily as Jacob moved forward, calm and assured. At least somebody was.
"Leah," he warned, his deep voice low. He was treading dangerous waters, and he knew it.
The Quileute woman ignored him, taking a step forward. Like clockwork, the boys moved, several of the younger ones flanking either Sam or Jacob; Quil and Embry moved to the wings behind Leah, ready to grab her if need be, while Paul and Jared moved in front of me, blocking her direct path.
"Leah, don't do this."
The first time that I ever heard his voice, I hadn't exactly been planning on hearing him say another woman's name. But I really didn't care exactly what he said, so long as he just kept talking. His voice, like the rest of him, was perfect, a rich timbre that hinted at the slightest of accents, making me wonder if he was bilingual. It was husky and soft, but no less intimidating when used the right way.
Sam was speaking in hushed tones to Leah, desperately trying to convey something to her. Finally, her eyes lifted from where I stood and she nodded, turning on her heel and sprinting back into the forest, from where she came. I released the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, and simultaneously the situation relaxed. Jacob was looking back over to me with a sympathetic smile on his face, and I tried smiling weakly back at him.
"Well," Mystery Man said, startling me with how close his voice was. His breath was tickling my ear. "That's not exactly the way I thought my sister would react."
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. His sister? But, that would mean that…Mystery Man was Seth Clearwater! I blinked, wondering why I was getting sudden sun spots in my vision. With a shake of my head to clear my eyes, I fell into darkness.
So? Welcome to La Push! What did you think? Curious about Leah's reaction? What about the way Jacob acted when he first met Lorelai? Chapter Three is on the way...
Oh! And please comment! :)