Disclaimer: Meyer owns all.
Imprinted
Chapter 2
"Wait up! You should probably turn off your car!"
I just reached the edge of the trees as I saw him already almost into the shadows.
"Why?" he half cried half yelled. I think his voice even cracked. Why what? Why did your car half to run out of gasoline? I don't know, because I'm a frugal idiot who doesn't want to pay for gasoline. Oh, maybe he knows he has to help me, but he is really, really shy and doesn't want to help. But that doesn't explain the running into the woods in a fit a terror. Do I really look that bad? Sure, I didn't brush my hair this morning, but it is back in a pony tail anyway, completing the whole messy hair thing I was subconsciously going for. Yes, all the while these joyful thoughts run through my head, I continue to run into the woods. I'm surprised I haven't tripped yet on all of the roots and plants (No, she is not clumsy like Bella, but just imagine running through the woods without a trail…).
I just lost sight of him as I heard what sounded like 10 people ripping their shirts off at once. And I mean, literally ripping. Did he get caught on a branch or something? I slowed a little but continued to run in the direction of the ripping sound. Sure enough, I caught sight of a ripped shirt… and jeans… and, are those exploded tennis shoes? This… is weird.
Because I really nothing better to do, I began gathering the pieces of clothing. I was sure that this was his shirt, for I had gotten a good look at it from the 56 second staring contest we had earlier, but these jeans and tennis shoes couldn't possibly be his as well. If so, then he is probably running around the forest in his boxers or… That settles it, just his shirt, not his jeans/tennis shoes. I decided, with all the ripped clothing in my arms, that I would at least make it back to the cars. I didn't want his car to die, too. If worse comes to worst, then I definitely could use it to get back to the house, and I could leave a note on my car with my cell number telling him what I did with his car and, if it isn't too much trouble, if he could call me and somehow get my precious jeep back to me. It's a long-shot, but it seems like the best option I have at the time.
It was then I realized I had no idea which direction to go. I know they say that the best thing to do when lost is to pop a squat and wait for help, but I don't think I'm the only one for whom that philosophy goes against all natural survival instincts. I decided to make off in the direction of the cool looking tree with a butterfly on it.
--
Nothing. I've been walking for, on my best guess, 2 hours, and I have found nothing. I'm so idiotic that I didn't even bring my cell phone when I went romping into the woods. Maybe I'm close to civilization without even knowing it, and there is service! Smart move, Fran.
My legs are really starting the feel the pain of the walking. I can run for hours, but walking? Different story, and it's the same thing with standing, too. That's why I could never work at a store behind the counter. Stand all day with that stupid smile plastered on your face, eh. Not for me. Anywho, the pop-a-squat philosophy really isn't sounding too badly and the moment, so I decide to make a move against my survival instincts and sit on the ground against a fallen tree trunk. You would be surprised at how comfortable that spot really was, and I was asleep within minutes. After waking up that early in the morning and with all the trauma I had been through, I think I deserved a nap. My last conscious thought before I drifted off was where the heck that guy was without his now ruined shirt.
--
I don't know how long I had been asleep, but I awoke in the front seat of my jeep at a gas station. This is… weird, but amazingly awesome. I started to wonder if it was all a big dream and if I really had stopped at the over-priced gas station when I saw the Volkswagen. The same Volkswagen. The very same Volkswagen. Holy crap… I hope he found a shirt.
I looked down and saw the keys sitting on the dashboard on top of a post-it note that simply read "Sorry" in black Sharpie. I grabbed the keys and put them in the ignition and turned the car, to what I hoped would be, on. Much to my relief, it roared to life, and the little gas arrow swiftly moved to the "F." I was beyond excited one second, but then I realized that I had completely missed my running time; I mean, I could still run if I really wanted to, but the heat and the crowds, not that La Push was a crowded place, I just couldn't take it.
I then glanced around and my eyes rested on the Volkswagen again. This time, I saw the same guy in the driver's seat, staring at me again. So he wanted to have a staring contest, huh? Ok then. I stared back with the most concentrated look on my face that I was sure I saw him smile a little. I decided to go thank him for, at least, I assumed it was him, helping me with my car problems and realized that I needed to pay him for the gas, money I didn't have on me.
I opened the car door and sauntered over to his car, parked in those extra spaces in front of the little store. He had an expression that I thought looked like a mix between surprise, relief, excitement, and horror. Those are a lot of emotions to have on one face, but I think the look worked for him. He wasn't that bad looking really, and he had a sweatshirt on. He can now be seen in public without people gawking/glaring at him. I felt a little relief for him.
Walking up to the car window, I rapped on it lightly with my knuckles. His response was to slowly roll down the window. "Fran," I said as I extended my hand through the now open window.
"Jacob," he said slowly as he took my extended hand. He looked like he wasn't breathing, and I then noticed that his hand was abnormally warm. Whatever. It's hot outside, and he is wearing a hoodie, of course he is a little hot.
"I owe you for gas."
"No really it's fine," he said. I realized that he still had my hand and was gripping it with increasing tightness. I pulled back gently on my hand, and he suddenly released it, seeming a little embarrassed.
"You spent at least like 65 dollars on me just now. As much as my piggy bank would love it, I can't let you get away with that."
"No really. I wanted to buy you gasoline," he said kind of quickly.
He wanted to buy gasoline, for someone else. Someone else he had never met before now. Someone from whom he had recently run away. "Can I have your address?" I asked.
"Um… What?"
"I have to get the money to you somehow, but I don't have it on me right now."
"Seriously, it is no big deal. Besides, you… I… I was really rude to you earlier, and this is one way to make it up to you."
65 dollars for running away from me into the woods when I was stranded in the middle of a deserted highway. I could go for that, but if I did let that slide, my conscience would kill me from the inside out. "Ok, I have a deal for you Jake; can I call you Jake?" he hesitated before nodding. "Ok. Deal is, you pay for the gasoline now, but I will make it up to you somehow. You get to name exactly what that 'somehow' will be…" I paused and gave him a look that said, 'You better not be thinking of what I just thought of that you might be thinking.'
He just stared at me… for the third time today. This time, he had mostly a mix of astonishment and amazement on his face with just a pinch of fear. Then he began to talk. "Do you like motorcycles?"
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How was that for longness? At least, compared to the other ones so far. I will probably get the hang of this "a lot of things happening in one chapter" thing, I hope. Grimace Anywho, what did you think? I figured that because one, since Fran, as previously mentioned, isn't very shy, and two, since the two main characters not knowing each other can get a little boring, I would go ahead and get them kinda introduced. I'm planning on the next chapter either being at Jake's house OR she goes home and there is a kind of in between chapter thing. What do you think? Review and let me know.