"But something tells me I'm not alone..."
{{ Figure 8; Ellie Goulding }}
Sneaking Quil in is difficult.
There are no trees near my second story window so he couldn't climb up (I doubt that he could make the swing from a branch to my window anyway) and my father often stayed awake till the early morning hours when he returned from covering a story. So it was either risk letting my friend in through the backdoor or let him wait two or three hours outside until my dad went to sleep.
Quil told me he'd rather get caught by my dad than spend any more time out in the frost that was encroaching around my house (seconds later he explained that it would be great if he wasn't caught too).
"I don't understand why you couldn't have just called me," I say after we've managed to get him up the stairs and into my room. "Or why you couldn't have waited till Monday. I mean, did you really have to come to my house in the middle of the night to tell me that Jacob was sick?"
Quil snorts, almost tumbling over as he removes his shoes. "You know as well as I do what being 'sick' means on the reservation now, Blair." When I don't say anything, just merely peer over at him, he sighs and turns his attention to untying his left sneaker. "Sam's got him too, now."
"You don't know that," I murmur. "He could really be sick. We did go surfing on the one of the coldest days of the year, in case you forgot."
"No," Quil says, shaking his head. "He's with Sam now."
I cross the room so I can settle on the end of my bed. Quil joins me a few seconds later, after he's managed to get out of his shoes, and wraps himself up in the quilt I always kept folded there. He slinks down in it while I stare over at him sadly.
"Well… How do you know Sam's got him? Have you seen them together?"
"Nah, but it's only a matter of time."
This is ridiculous, I think—at least, that's what I want it all too really be: Quil just jumping to conclusions because Embry walked away and he's afraid that he'll lose the rest of his friends as well.
So what… Jake was sick. Why did that have to mean that he was going to ally up with the Uley gang now? Why did that have to mean that he wasn't going to have anything to do with his friends again?
In the back of my mind, though, rests the same fear that I know to be troubling Quil. I can't help but wondering if, here soon, I might see Jacob traipsing around with hardly any clothes on, following Sam Uley's orders like he's some sort of dictator. And the longer all this rockets through my mind, the more denial tries to fill in the cracks and crevices lingering around in these thoughts. Eventually I become so overwhelmed and angry that I can't seem to do anything but clasp my hands into fists, resting them on the tops of my thighs while my jaw locks.
"No," I shake my head. "No. He's just sick, Quil. That's it. He'll be fine. He'll be better in no time and we'll all go to the dance together and… and… He's fine!"
Quil eases a long arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him till I'm resting with my head nestled underneath his jaw. He gives me a gentle squeeze while shushing me gently, promising me that everything was going to be fine because I still had him and Sadie.
I don't cry, just nearly drown in the possibility that I was losing all my friends to some asshole who I had begun to hate.
"What're we going to do?" I quietly ask sometime later.
Quil doesn't answer me right away. "I don't know," he sighs. "I don't know, Blair."
We sit like that for a little while longer. Quil doesn't say much of anything else, only breaking the silence to repeatedly tell me that everything was going to be fine, and I can't manage to mutter anything either because I still am trying to push away the ability to accept that Jacob might be gone too.
He leaves through the backdoor after we hear my father head up to bed finally, trekking down through the backyard with the promise that he, myself, and Sadie would meet at Jacob's house tomorrow to see him (because I needed visual proof; Quil's words weren't enough for me). With a wave, he vanishes into the night. I hear his car start up at the beginning of the driveway a minute later.
When I head up to bed again, it's with heaviness pushing against my body. I don't feel like crying or even moping; I just have some lingering uneasiness swimming around that makes me grimace in slight discomfort.
Sliding back into bed again, I find my cell phone discarded in my sheets and slide a finger against screen. It comes to life with a flurry of notifications that show Quil really had tried to call me several times today; there are about fifteen that I missed from him, the earliest from around noon, when I'd been at Nonny and Grandpa Bear's. I figure that's why he'd resorted to shambling around in the dark and feel a little guilty at having yelled at him earlier.
I don't know why, exactly, but I find Jake's name in my contacts before tapping the call button. Nervously, I bite down on my bottom lip while hesitantly listening as a ringing sound begins to vibrate through the device.
It chimes out the traditional sound just twice before I'm sent to voicemail.
"Are you sure Billy said he was sick, Quil?"
Sadie glances over at our friend, worriedly studying him as he merely peers out the windshield of his car with a rather angry expression resting on his face.
"Yea," he mutters. "Said Jake had mono or somethin'."
I frown. "Mono? Where the hell would Jake get mono from?"
Up front, where he's seated behind the wheel, Quil shrugs but says nothing. Sadie sends me a look of uncertainty and when she grips his hand, I pretend not to notice, turning my head to look out of the back passenger window.
The three of us are crammed into Quil's car, headed to the Black house in order to talk to Jacob (if Billy will let us in) and see if he's alright.
While Sadie has taken a firm stance against the possibility of Jacob joining Sam's gang, Quil has all but convinced himself that our longtime friend has already switched teams. I, meanwhile, am still on the fence, much like I'd been last night.
There's too much swirling around inside my brain for me to properly pick out what was true and what wasn't. I was hoping that seeing Jacob (either sick in his bed or alongside Sam and his cult) would help me choose which side I'd end up on.
"He's bikes still here," murmurs Sadie.
I snap out of my thinking and peer around her in order to properly get a view at the front of the Black house.
Jacob's bike, the one he'd built with Bella, is propped up in front of the small front porch that rested in front of the entrance. I can't tell if it's been ridden recently, but hope that because it was still here, that Jacob would be too.
After Quil parks the car, we all shuffle out. Sadie takes Quil's hand again and when he pauses in order to offer her a small smile, I continue up to the front door, hoping that her being so affectionate with him would tone down his anger.
I knock a few times, then wait. It takes only a few seconds before I hear the creaking of Billy's wheelchair groaning throughout the small house, alerting me to the fact that he was at least home.
"Blair," he says in surprise after he's gotten the door open.
I do my best to offer him a big smile. "Hey, Billy. Haven't seen you in a while."
"Been a week or two, hasn't it? And look atchu… Growing like a weed!"
I chuckle and glance behind me, searching for Quil and Sadie. They've pulled out of their moment and are standing behind me now. The latter stretches around me to offer Billy a timid wave while Quil stares at the tribal elder a little rudely; he doesn't even offer so much as a smile.
"Er… Well, could we come in?" I ask after realizing that the social interactions were going to be left up to me. "We heard Jake was sick and just wanted to make sure he was okay."
"Sorry, kiddo," Billy starts. "No can do. He's laying up in bed and we got orders from the doc to keep him sort of isolated."
My brows furrow at that. I wasn't too keen on things related to medical practices and such, but if you got mono through salvia and the like, then why would Jacob need to be shut up in his room? It didn't make sense to me and when Quil barrels up beside me, I guess the pieces don't click for him either.
"Come on, Billy," snaps Quil. "Tell us the truth. He's gone off with Uley, hasn't he?"
"Now Quil—"
"Hey Jake!" interrupts my friend, who yells so loudly that I cringe away from him.
"Quil!" Sadie chastises.
She grabs onto his arm and tries to nudge him back a little, but he won't budge.
"He isn't here, is he? He's off with Sam, just like I said," determines Quil when we hear nothing back from his loud call.
Billy sighs but says nothing for a moment, just regards Quil with a tired look before starting to wheel himself back into his home. He gets a firm grip on the front door and starts to ease it closed, letting the three of us know that we'd not be visiting the Black's today.
"You'll know everything in time," is all he says before sweeping Quil and I with knowing looks.
The door is closed then, leaving us out in the slightly chilly air.
Quil huffs before turning on his heel and starting to trek back to his car. "Whatever," he spits. "Who needs 'im?"
"I do!" I exclaim. "I need him, Quil! We can't just—we have to—"
"We can't do anything, Blair! Don't you think if we could, Embry would be here with us right now?"
"Don't fight! It's not going to solve anything!" pushes in Sadie.
I rake a rather shaky hand through my tangled hair and avert my gaze to the ground underneath the soles of my feet. My mind reels with broken pieces of plans that I try to scramble together in order to find a way to grasp my best friends hand before he left me too. But all I come up with is meager attempts at confronting him; they're thwarted, though, when I realize that by the time I see him next, he won't want to have anything to do with me.
At the feeling of a hand lacing with mine, I flick my eyes up, meeting a pair of soft brown ones. It's Quil and when I peer over, I notice that he's holding Sadie's hand as well.
"Come on," he murmurs, tone much softer than before. "Let's go to my grandpa's… Get something warm to eat."
I just nod, squeezing his hand back when his constricts comfortingly around mine, and follow the two of them to the car.
Quil's grandfathers' house is situated only five minutes from Jacobs', so the drive is short and we're not far enough away for my comfort; I wanted to be on the other side of the reservation and as we all get out, I think that I should've suggested heading to Nonny's instead.
"Come on," says Quil, his tone a little brighter than a few minutes ago. "I know Gramp's got somethin' cookin'. It'll make us feel better."
Sadie snorts. "Do you ever not think with your stomach, Quil?"
"I'm a growing boy, Sade—I gotta have my protein."
Their playful banter trickles into Old Quil's house and I make to follow them, but a howl resounds through the encroaching trees that are always threatening to swallow up the reservation. It startles me, the sound does, and I whirl around in the direction that I think I heard the cry vibrate up from.
Swallowing thickly, I sweep the outcropping of tall pines, narrowing my eyes in order to try and focus in on the dank blankness of the wood. I trek forward just a little bit when what I think to be a large, burly shadow of something massive blurs past a few of the trees I was trying to center in on. For a second I even think about abandoning the idea of something warm to eat in favor of investigating, but then another howl echoes up from out of the forest and it's so marginally different from the others I'd heard that I change my mind.
I teeter back some as another bay rings out, shivering a little as I feel gooseflesh vibrate down the length of my arms, and try not to let the fear that had suddenly begun trying to swallow me render me immobile. But that howl had been so snarling and nasty—and hadn't sounded anything like the sort of pleasant, almost playful, yelps I'd heard just a day ago; it makes me wonder if what Paul had said about the wolves keeping to themselves was true or not.
I'm about to scoot myself back even further, my imagination having run a little wild and the result being me terribly frightened, when Quil throws open the screen door he'd disappeared behind just a moment ago.
"Blair, you comin' in or what? Gramps says he's made your favorite."
He's grinning wide when I glance over at him, all traces of our interaction with Billy gone, and he motions for me to follow in behind him this time.
I nearly trip over myself when I finally move, my joints stiff with fear, and Quil snickers as he remarks something about my 'finesse'; I shoot back with the fact that I didn't know he knew such a big word and we head into his grandfather's kitchen ribbing each other.
When Sadie spies us, she perks up on the wooden bench she was seated on and I just smile over at her, hoping to explain non-verbally that the little spat Quil and I had had earlier was nothing. She brightens even more after that.
"Blair Shawnee!"
I turn at the sound of my name and feel my smile widen when I spot Old Quil standing in front of his stove, stirring something with a spoon as he wipes a hand down the flowered apron he was wearing.
"Hey, Old Quil," I say, heading towards him in order to get him into a hug.
The old man draws me into him after he sits down the utensil and is ever-so gentle with me as he wraps his arms around my frame. He pats my back comfortingly a few times, murmuring in a happy, cheerful tone about how good it was to see me.
"I was just sayin' to Quil that he needed to bring you all by, you know," says Old Quil when he pulls back. "I told him that I don't see you all enough, but you know how he gets… Start talking about that pretty girl Sadie and he forgets everything else."
"Gramps!" Quil calls from the place he'd taken next to our other friend.
Old Quil just smiles and winks at me.
"Now you go sit yourself down, Blair, and I'll getcha a plate of my best fish, alright? Caught it just yesterday with Billy—best in that whole damn lake!"
I take one of the seats opposite of Quil and Sadie, giggling when I notice that Quil is trying to explain to Sadie that he really didn't talk about her as much as his grandfather was claiming.
"He exaggerates. You know, he's getting old… Starting to become senile and all that."
"Quil, don't say that!" I exclaim, reaching across the table to slap his shoulder.
He laughs and, almost completely mirroring his grandfather, sends Sadie a playful wink. I chuckle lowly under my breath, and when Sadie glances over at me with reddening cheeks, allow my grin to widen; she just turns his gaze down to her full plate.
Old Quil brings me over a plate as well as one for himself and we all begin to eat the fish he tells us he'd gotten Harry Clearwater's fish fry specifically for. That's the topic we stay on for about five minutes before a howl nearly shakes the entire house.
I almost topple out of my seat in alarm and glance around frantically, my eyes searching out the large window I was seated by. I can't make out, anything, though; it's all too far away from where I sit.
"Wolves have sure been active lately," comments Old Quil.
His eyes have risen up above his big glasses and he's peering up at his grandson in a way that makes me think the old man might know something that Sadie and I don't. It's only when I look at Quil that I realize he doesn't know why his grandfather is staring at him in such a way either; he sends me a shrug before shoveling a bite off my plate.
"Yea," Quil murmurs through his mouthful. "S'weird… Wonder if I could catch one and make it a pet or something, Gramps."
Old Quil deflates noticeably and lets out a disgruntled sigh before standing with his plate, beginning to grumble unintelligibly under his breath as he heads up to the stove for seconds.
"They'd probably eat you before you could, Quil," says Sadie.
"But seriously," I cut in. "Have you guys been hearing them a lot?" Quil just shrugs, gives a little shake of his head before reaching for the piece of fish that Sadie hadn't eaten, while my other friend stares at me in concern. "I've heard them a lot here lately, like five or six times now."
"Maybe you're going to die."
Sadie reaches over to deliver a smack to the back of Quil's head, berating him for saying such a thing. That's when Old Quil teeters back over to us and as he drops himself back down beside me with a new plate full, he sends his grandson another exasperated look.
"Those are banshees, son," he says, shaking his head a little. "If you hear the scream of a banshee it means death is coming for you."
"I knew that," Quil says.
When his grandfather sends him another look over his glasses again, my friend just hunkers down in his seat a little more.
"Why am I hearing them so much, though, Old Quil?" I ask.
Old Quil was a tribal elder, one who knew every single story and legend that has ever been created about our tribe; he's wise and I think that he's got to have some reasonable explanation… Or, at least, I'm hoping he does, because I'm starting to become paranoid.
"Maybe your destiny lies with the wolves, Blair," he says.
I stare at him for a second, trying to see if he's trying to yank my chain or something, but the old man just returns my studying look with an expression that resembles the one Billy Black had swept Quil and I with earlier.
"I… What?" I splutter.
Old Quil smiles kindly at me and pats my hand. "You'll see in time, my dear. All in time."
I glance over at Quil and he just makes a swirling signal by his ear, mutely telling me his grandfather was crazy. When Sadie catches him doing that, she slaps him on his arm again and sends him a glare.
We finish our food without further interruption from the lingering wolves of La Push and soon, we're all heading out to Quil's car again. I wave goodbye to Old Quil, who makes Sadie and I promise to come back soon, and then slide into the back of the car.
Just as Quil is backing out of his grandfather's drive, I glance over to the woods and could swear I see one or two large forms blur through the trees again.
Authors Note:
So! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. :) We're beginning to see that the howling from the wolves a lot now... Wonder why that is... And I wonder why the howls towards the end of this chapter were so different... Wonder if it might have something to do with Blair possibly seeing one of the wolves... Hmmm... I wonder... ;)
OH! And by the way, make sure you're leaving reviews! They help out a bunch when it comes to motivation and such. I always try to post questions, so you could just answer those if you wanted... Every little bit helps! Also, a big, HUGE thank you to all you lovely and absolutely wonderful people who've reviewed so far. I don't respond back to them because I forget but I want you to know that I see them and they make me so freakin' happy. (:
QUESTIONS:
[-] What's with the looks from Billy Black and Old Quil?
[-] Which wolf do you think Blair saw?
[-] Do you think the wolves (or wolf) are following her?
[-] What's going to happen between Blair, Sadie, and Quil when Jacob returns to school?
