Time seems to blur by as I complete my first week in Forks High School. My days consist of six lessons, then I busy myself with absolutely nothing once I reach home. I go for a run, eat, do homework, then I sleep. The next day, I wake up and life repeats itself. I spend my free time with my new friends, we laugh, we talk about everything but really nothing at all, then I go home and I do it all again the next day. I'm sitting on my bed Sunday morning, dreading having to live through another mundane week in Forks when I finally realise how frustrated I am.
"I'm loosing my mind."
Closing the book I'm reading with a sigh, I dramatically open my bedroom door and head down to the kitchen. I find it empty. Standing in silence for a moment, I contemplate what to do next. I open the fridge, almost hoping I'll find some inspiration but unfortunately nothing springs to mind. Should I go for a run again? Running has been a nice escape this past week but for once, I don't feel like exercising. Opening the cupboards, I find flour. With a smile, I glance back at the fruit bowl brimming with apples. Running up stairs and into my room, I grab my phone and head back down to the kitchen. Blasting Cello Suite No.1 in G Major out of it's tiny little speakers, I retrieve the butter and eggs from the fridge.
I'm chopping the apples when Charlie finds me dancing along to some random tune.
"Kira, sweetheart?"
I can't help but smile when I find him staring at me with mild curiosity and disbelief. I continue with my task as he sets down a six-pack of beer on the table and removes his coat, placing it on the back of a chair.
"I'm making a pie," I tell him before he has a chance to ask.
"Why are you making a pie?" Charlie asks, retrieving a dusty a pie dish for me from under the stove.
"Thanks," I take it from him and wash it in the sink. "I just need to do something, so I though I'd give baking another go."
"Well," he smiles, leaning up against the counter next to me, "probably best that someone uses this kitchen, Lord knows I can't cook."
"We all know that," I laugh. Glancing over at the six-pack on the table, I ask, "What's the occasion?"
"I'm heading over to Billy's to watch the game."
"Can I come with you?" I ask him, not wanting to lazy around in my room anymore. Part of me worries that Charlie will say no but when I see him break out into a wide smile, I'm reassured my worry is unfounded.
"Of course you can."
"How's work going?" I find myself asking Charlie.
"It's alright, although there have been quite a few animal attacks happening lately," he says sadly.
"Animal attacks?" I turn to him. "What kind?"
"It looks like some sort of bear," he puzzles. "We're not really sure but we do know that they're nasty and becoming more common."
I can't help but feel a little fearful as Charlie describes the attacks. I know he loves his job but what if he gets hurt? I cannot fathom the idea of something happening to him, especially now that I'm finally starting to grow closer to him once again. I want Charlie in my life, I need my father.
"You'll be careful out there, right?" I say, not bothering to hide how serious I am.
"I always am, sweetheart."
"You made a pie," Billy smiles as I set it down on their dinning table.
"Best you'll ever taste," I tell him. "I hope you don't mind that I've tagged along."
"Not at all," he says cheerily. "Bella here, too?"
"No, she's not a fan of football," I tell Billy as Charlie takes a seat on the couch as if it is his own. I don't bother to admit that I'm not the biggest fan of the sport either.
"No worries," he waves his hand. "Make yourself at home, Kirana."
"How are you?" I ask him as I head into the kitchen.
"Not bad at all," he smiles. "How has your first week been living with this old grouch?"
"Old, huh," Charlie turns to him. "Are you forgetting that I am much younger than you?"
"That's strange," Billy looks at him, "because you really don't look it."
I can't help but burst out in laughter, Billy joining in, the sound travelling from the living room and into the kitchen.
"Alright," Charlie plops down on the couch. "Stop with the heckling and turn the television on already."
Billy grabs the remote while Charlie break out the beers, the familiar NFL commentary washing over me. I place my pie on the counter top as I search for a sharp knife I can use to cut it. Finally, my eyes land on one in the middle of the cutlery drawer. I look through the cupboards next for some plates. As I begin to plate my masterpiece, a voice comes from behind me.
"Kirana?"
"Jacob," I glance at him standing in the kitchen doorway. "Nice to see you again."
"I didn't know you were a fan of football," he comes to stand next to me, his long hair sweeping over his shoulders and a small smile on his lips.
I look at Charlie and Billy through the small gap in the wall, their eyes glued to the television screen. They shout something wildly as the game begins. I shake my head, admiring their friendship.
"I'm not really a fan," I lower my voice, a secret smile on my face. "I just needed to get out of the house, so I thought I'd tag along."
Handing him a piece of pie, he nods, "Forks not treating you well?"
"It's not that," I admit. "I just don't really know what to do with myself here. I just... Back in Phoenix, I had-"
Not really knowing how to explain what I'm feeling and not particularly wanting to get into it, especially with someone I hardly know, I let Charlie's shout distract me. I smile again, hoping Jacob won't notice. "How is the pie?" I ask him instead, crossing my arms.
"Did you make it yourself?" Jacob grabs a fork from the drawer. Taking a bite, I watch as his facial expression change. "It's really good."
He's not a very good liar. Walking up to him, I take the fork from his hand and take a bite for myself from his slice of pie. Eating it, I can't keep the grim expression off my face as I realise I did not put enough butter in the crust nor enough sugar on the apples. Taking a step back, I sigh at the thick slices I've plated for both Charlie and Billy, "Shit."
"It's not that bad," Jacob laughs, taking the fork from my hand.
"Easy for you to say. I thought I was getting better at this whole cooking thing," I chuckle myself. "Do you have any sugar?"
He opens one of the bottom cupboards and hands me a jar full of brown sugar. Taking a spoon, I lift up the pie crust on the two individual slices and generously spread some sugar on the cooked apples. Jacob shakes his head at me, a smirk on his face. I'm satisfied though, so I head out of the kitchen and give Charlie and Billy their share of the dessert. As they continue to watch the screen, they aimlessly munch away at the pastry while shouting absurdities at the game. Shaking my head, I realise that they are so distracted they probably wouldn't have even noticed if I fed them something entirely different to my homemade pie.
It's not even half-time yet before I'm entirely board of the football game. Sitting next to Jacob on one of the kitchen chairs, I feel him nudge me lightly.
"Want to go for a walk?" Jacob asks me.
"Yes," I answer much too eagerly, wanting nothing else but to get away from the television.
He mentions that we're heading out as we pass both Charlie and Billy, their eyes still attached to the game. Charlie absentmindedly mentions something about not being too long and being careful before we head out of the front door together. A gust of wind instantly hits me like a breath of fresh air and I sigh, closing my eyes. Jacob shoves his hands in the pocket of his pullover before we head off in an unknown direction, with every way shrouded in tall trees and greenery.
"I haven't seen you around school," I tell him.
"I actually go to school here in the Reservation," he informs me.
"Ah, that'd be why then."
"How's your first week been?" Jacob glances at me, looking genuinely intrigued.
"It's been..." I search for the right words. "It's a lot different to what I though it'd be like. But to tell you the truth, I don't really know what I was expecting. Forks High School is pretty good. My classes are fine. My teachers are fine. My new friends are lovely. Everyone there can be a little much at times but that will die down with time, I'm sure. I'm really enjoying my time with Charlie, it's genuinely nice to be back here. I don't know what else I could ask for."
Jacob nods, listening intently, "You don't seem happy here though."
I glance at him, raising my eyebrows, "Why do you say that?"
He looks at me, his expression unreadable, "I don't know what it is, but I can just feel it. You're saying all these things that make it sound like you are happy here but when I hear you say it, when I look at you, I just know that you're not. You're not happy. It's strange, it's just this feeling I get in my gut."
We continue to walk, and I can't seem to gather a reply. I can't even gather enough courage to even glance at him. My eyes are trained on the floor as I mull over everything Jacob said to me. Somehow, he's managed to explain the way I feel better than even I could. How is that possible?
"I'm sorry," he offers after I don't say anything for a while. "I didn't mean to cross a line. I just meant-"
"Can you tell me my future, too?" I ask, a small smile creeping onto my face.
"Uh," he scratches the back of his head as an embarrassed laugh escapes him. "I could give it a go, I doubt it'd be worth much though."
I can't help but laugh a little as he fumbles around. "You're not wrong," I finally admit to myself and him. "But it is not Forks that's making me like this, I've felt like this for months now. In time though, I will be fine. It will blow over."
"What will blow over?" Jacob glances at me, a concerned expression on his features.
"It's nothing," I shake my head, already feeling uncomfortable with the amount of emotional information I've shared with this boy. "You don't have to worry about me, Jacob. I'm fine."
"Come on," he nudges me lightly, a smile on his lips again. "We grew up together, we're basically family. Of course I'm going to worry about you."
"I can't even remember you," I look at him pointedly.
"But I remember you," he looks at me. "You always had food somewhere on your face and you hated wearing pants."
"Oh my God," I bring my hands to my face, cringing. Laughing, I shake my head.
"And you can call me Jake, you know," he smiles at me.
"Jake," it feels almost natural as I say it. "Since we're sharing names, I prefer Kira."
"As you wish, Kira," I love the way he says my name. "Now, are you going to tell me what's bothering you?"
Shaking my head, I can tell that he isn't going to leave it alone. I'm comforted by the feeling that he isn't prying into my life simply because he wants to know, but because he's genuinely concerned about me. Oddly enough, there's something about Jacob Black that makes me feel safe around him. And although I'm usually indifferent when it comes to sharing my feelings with people, I feel comfortable opening up to him. But should I? I've never really confessed my deepest thoughts to anyone. Not to my parents, or Bella, or my friends back in Phoenix. I had a journal once but I found that it took up way too much of my time, and I didn't like how vulnerable it made me. A book filled with my thoughts and feelings can be used against me. I didn't want to take that risk, I still don't want that. This is different though, right? All these emotions built up inside me, I have never one confronted them. Maybe it is time. Perhaps I won't feel so hopeless if I open up to Jacob Black. He seems to care and strangely, I trust him.
"I've always felt like I had a purpose in life," I find myself saying. "Now though, I feel like I don't have that anymore. I guess my whole outlook on life has changed because of it. It's just taking me some time to adjust, that's all. "
"What happened? Why do you think you've lost your purpose in life?"
"Do you believe in destiny?" I look at Jake sincerely. "I do. I believe everyone has some sort of purpose, a type of calling that will help us make our mark on the world. I thought I found mine years ago, in gymnastics. I was good at it, I loved the sport, I thought that I had found my purpose. I thought I could go all the way. Make something for myself, make history. My whole world seemed to revolve around it at one point, especially as I got older. I gave up my time, my energy. I scarified the relationships I had with my friends, with Mum, Dad, and Bella. I thought it was worth it as I got better, as I accomplished everything I ever thought I wanted. I got my medals, my trophies, I got my recognition. I worked so hard and then last September I won the opportunity to compete in one of the biggest gymnastics competitions in the United States. I was there, I thought I was fulfilling my destiny. It was my dream. Everything was going perfectly, until it all fell apart. I was on my final apparatus, the beam. I was halfway through my routine when my foot landed at the wrong angle. I lost my balance and tore the ligament in my right knee."
The sound of my own horrendous screams and the clicking of flashing cameras capturing my pain ring through my ears. As I relive the memories, the familiar sensation of disappointment and anger washes over me, I pause, unable to go on for a moment. Jake patiently waits for me to continue.
"I thought it was going to be nothing at first," I breathe. "I've had injuries before and I've always bounced back. This injury was different though. The ligament hadn't completely torn so I didn't have to have reconstructive surgery, but that didn't matter, it was still really bad. I thought a few weeks of rehabilitation and I'd be back, good as new. Eventually, it dawned on me that that was never going to happen. I was too stubborn to admit it at first, so I worked painstakingly hard and my knee healed enough for me to be given the okay to go back to training, but it was obvious I was never going to reach the same level I once achieved. I trained and I trained and I trained, right up until I moved back here with Bells, but I'm not an elite gymnast anymore. I've known that for some time, since the start of this year, but I still can't seem to accept it. I lost my purpose in life, at least I thought I did. For a time, I didn't think life was worth anything anymore. However, I have realised these past few weeks that gymnastics was never my destiny, it was just a goal. A destiny and a goal are two very different things. I understand that now. But at least then I had goal, now I'm here in Forks and I have nothing. No purpose, not even a goal. I just feel like I'm walking through life right now, waiting for something to be thrown my way."
I don't dare look at Jake. I look at my feet and focus on taking one step at a time, one after another.
"Thank you for telling me that," Jake says after a long time. "I know it must have been hard for you to open up about your ordeal."
This time, I do look at him. We meet each others eyes, holding the gaze for a long moment before I nod in reply.
"I think you're right about us having a destiny," he says. "I don't think you should just sit around and wait for it to find you though. You're obviously a very mature person for your age, go out there and find what you want in life. Make some new goals. You will find your purpose eventually, Kirana. When you do, you'll know it. I know you're going to be something one day, something important and unforgettable. You will make this world a better place, I'm sure of it."
I blink up at him, his long black hair shinning in the light and his eyes deep and sincere, "Thank you, Jacob."
He nods in reply, a small smile on his face, "Does Bella know how you feel?"
"No," I sigh sadly. "We don't really talk about things like this, we don't really have the closest relationship. You're the first person I've ever talked to about this stuff."
"Maybe you should tell her," he suggests. "It's Bella, she's your sister, she cares about you. It might help you both."
As Jake says her name, his eyes seem to soften and sparkle. The corners of his mouth seem to involuntary turn up into a small smile. It's so subtle I almost miss it, but it's there.
"How long have you liked my sister?"
"What?" Jake's caught a little off guard. "I don't know what you're talking about."
I stare at him pointedly, "Come on, dude. I literally just poured my heart out to you and you can't even throw me a bone? I'm trying over hear, Jake."
He chuckles lightly in reply, rubbing the back of his neck, "Okay fine, yes. I like her. I don't know. We were close when we were kids and now she's here. We're both grown up and she's... she's..."
I can't help but smile. "You're not going to break out into song are you?" I joke.
We both laugh, "Have you seen her since you dropped off the truck last week?"
"I ran into her and some of her friends in town a couple days ago," he informs me.
"I'll give you a heads up," I turn to him. "Bella is awful at reading signals, particularly from guys who like her. I still haven't figured out whether she's genuinely oblivious to the fact that boys are actually interested in her or whether she does notice, but she just chooses to ignore it all. Either way, don't be afraid to be up front about your feelings with her when the time comes because that's the only way you're going to get any sort of answer out of Bella."
"Understood," he grins at me appreciatively.
"Should we head back?" I suggest. "I don't want Charlie to get worried and I'm a little cold."
"Of course," he says. Taking off his pullover, he hands it to me, "Here."
"No, that's okay."
"Take it," he reaches for my hand and places it in my palm. His fingers graze my skin softly and I shiver as some sort of warmth shoots through me.
"Are you not going to be cold?" I look at the cosy material, reluctant to take it.
"I'm warm anyways, I'll be fine," he smiles.
After a moment, I take it with a thanks and we head back in the direction we came from. As we approach his home, Jake stops me before opening the door.
Looking down at me he says, "You know, if you ever need to talk again, I'm here for you."
"I'm grateful, thank you," I tell Jake sincerely. "And for what it's worth, if you need anything you know where to find me. Forewarning though, I might not be able to help you with all your Bella troubles, that girl is damn hard to read. But if you need any fashion tips or a shoulder to cry on, I'm your gal."
We both laugh as we entre his house, Charlie and Billy still shouting absurdities at the television. Sitting down at the dinning table with a slice of my pie, I can't help but feel a little better about everything. Glancing over to my right, I silently thank Jacob Black.
