CHAPTER SEVEN—DAYS GO BY
Ever since my verbal and written conversations with Edward, my dreams changed. Although I was loathe to admit it, he had something in him that had made me put my guard down and open up, even if only a little bit. In my new dream, Jake and his wolves had chased the Cullens out of the clearing and I had followed, as per usual. The change came when I found Edward waiting for me after I had run for a while.
My heart was racing as I ran through the thick grouping of tall trees. Light barely filtered through the canopy to reach the forest floor. The wind shifted and I could smell him, Edward, before I saw him step out from behind a tall pine. Without saying a word, he let me know that he was okay, that the wolves hadn't reached him. I was relieved; just the sight of him calmed me.
I awoke calmer than I had over the weekend, my olfactory senses still stuck in dreamland. I swore that I could smell Edward's honey-lilac scent on my pillow. Now that was even more absurd than my dreams. My morning routine of shower, dress, breakfast was in now way rushed. I felt light and relieved that I hadn't awoke to sticky, cold sweat and a racing heart. It felt as if I had, blessedly, managed to get some actual rest.
School passed just as pleasantly and by the time I got to biology, not even Edward Cullen could get me down. I wasn't sure what to expect, as our last (and only) two encounters had been polar opposites, but he greeted me with a small smile and as we worked, we chatted about inconsequential things.
The pattern repeated itself for the rest of the week, and then for the next four weeks. Winter's cold grasp was starting to weaken in Washington, which lifted my spirits immensely. I was made for the sun. As soon as the weather cleared a bit, I called Jake and asked him if he wanted a hiking buddy.
"Who said I was going hiking?" Jake asked, his voice full of sleep even though it was noon.
"I did. Get your butt up, I'll be there in twenty."
We hiked a fun trail that wound through the forest by the Rez and had a great time.
"Let's do this more often," I suggested.
"Sounds good to me," Jake agreed. "Things have been pretty tame around here lately, and it's fun having you around."
My nice month turned sour when Edward Cullen decided he was done with our fledgling friendship. I wasn't sure exactly what had happened, or why; I only knew of the exchange that happened after we had been let go from Biology. He had been distant during the class period. The thought made me laugh: I'd become nonchalant enough about my interactions with Edward Cullen that I had accidentally allowed him a bit of closeness. Not romantic closeness, of course not; however, I had grown used to his company throughout the day. We never said much beyond inconsequential things, such as the weather or our plans for the weekend.
"What's on the agenda for you this weekend?" I asked him.
"My family and I are going camping," he told me with a small smile.
"How very Brady Bunch of you!" I joked.
"And you?" he asked. "What are your plans?"
"I don't know," I replied. "Probably the same as usual, I'll head down to La Push. Jake's finally finished the mount for my bike and the weather looks to be nice enough for a ride on Saturday."
His face had darkened a bit at the mention of Jake's name, which I was willing to neglect. His next words, however, made me see red.
"You shouldn't go there," he told me, his voice low and serious. "Those boys you hang out with in La Push… they're dangerous. You could get hurt."
"Where do you get off thinking you can tell me what do to? You're not my keeper, you're not my father, and you're not my boyfriend. Those boys," I spat, copying his derisive tone, "are my friends, which is what I thought you were becoming, but boy howdy was I wrong!"
Honestly, I wasn't sure where the rage that welled up inside me had come from. One moment, I was fine; the next, I was three seconds away from becoming the Hulk.
"Bella, I don't think I can be your friend. I'm not… good for you."
His voice had changed to a somber tone; he looked pained as he spoke, as if he was sad about his statement. Why did he say it then? I had no idea why he would say that shit if he didn't want it, which only served to piss me off more. I turned on my heel and stomped out of the empty hallway we'd been arguing in.
"Bella, wait!" he called after me. I pretended not to notice.
I shifted my truck into gear with little to none of the softness and care I normally took with her and shot off for La Push.
When I arrived at Jake's garage, I was still fuming. I needed to do something to blow off the steam that threatened to billow out of my ears at any moment. I grabbed my gym bag from the truck and pulled on my athletic clothes and tennis shoes to go for a run.
Jake was my silent companion as I pushed myself harder and faster in my attempt to reach a threshold of pain that wouldn't come.
"Bells," he finally broke the silence after fifteen minutes of a dead run, "I'm impressed at your stamina, but damn, what's the problem?"
I stopped, barely winded at the cliff edge we had been inadvertently running to. The cold sea air did little to cool me off.
"It's nothing," I insisted, "just bullshit."
I had no intention of letting Jake have an I-told-you-so moment when it came to Edward Cullen. He had warned me to stay away from him, from all of the Cullens. Well, I wasn't hurt like he said I'd be—not physically, at least. I wasn't yet ready to admit that I was stung on the emotional end. Note to self: emotional attachments are bullshit.
"It looks like a storm's coming in," Jake said, his eyes focused on the horizon.
I agreed, I could smell the far off rain clouds, could feel the direction of the wind and its intensity. A pretty wicked storm would probably end up hitting land in about an hour. We jogged back to Jake's house, not as intensely as we ran out, without any more words. I was finally starting to calm down. This was what I needed.
As we rounded the curve Jake's house was situated behind, I knew something wasn't right. Billy was outside on the gravel driveway. Sam had a hold of his wheelchair. Paul was pacing, agitated.
"Where have you been?" he yelled. It seemed something had happened in the forty minutes we were gone.
"Bella," Billy looked to me, his face drawn. "Harry Clearwater has had a heart attack. I've called Charlie; he's at the hospital. You should go be with him."
"Of course," I agreed. "I'll see you guys later."
I jumped in my truck and revved the engine. As I backed out of the driveway, I saw the group of guys hadn't moved, but were in a tight huddle with heads close together. It was obvious that they were discussing something serious. Harry was a tribal leader, and therefore very important to the tribe at large.
He still is important, I reminded myself. There was no sense in thinking about the man in past tense until I knew what was happening.
I stopped at home to change out of my sweaty gym clothes before I headed to the hospital. I threw on my go-to outfit: black skinny jeans, black biker boots, dark charcoal grey Henley and a heather grey hoodie; already I was prepared for the worst.
When I arrived at the hospital, I immediately sought out Charlie and found him with a kind looking but grief stricken woman. Must be Harry's wife.
"Bella," Charlie looked surprised when he caught sight of me.
His eyes were red rimmed. I went to my dad immediately. My hand reached out to his shoulder, an attempt at a comforting gesture. He managed a small smile.
"Bells, this is Sue Clearwater," he told me.
"I wish we were meeting under better circumstances," she said sadly.
I took her hand and squeezed. There were no words I could think of to comfort this woman when I wasn't even sure what the state of her husband was. As if reading my mind, Charlie filled me in on the situation.
"Harry is in surgery with Dr. Gerandy right now," he told me. "It should be a few hours before we know anything."
I wondered why Dr. Cullen wasn't performing the surgery. He was supposedly a very talented surgeon, if Edward could be believed. I also wondered where Harry's two children were. They should be here with their grieving mother.
"Sue, would you like a cup of tea or a coffee?" I offered.
"Tea, please," she accepted.
The small cafeteria was at the end of a long hallway. The walls were the standard hospital grey with a faded teal stripe that ran horizontal at waist height. I hated hospitals. They reminded me of when I was younger and clumsy. Renee never could devote all of her attention to me, so I had ended up at the ER for stitches, finger splints and a couple broken bones.
One time she brought me in, in such a state that Child Protective Services was called in to evaluate the situation. I was eleven and had been baking a casserole from a recipe I'd pulled out of one of the magazines in the school library. It was Renee's birthday and I wanted to do something special for her. As I was pulling the dish could of the oven, I brushed my exposed arm against the top of the oven, which caused a terrible burn. To add to the situation, I immediately brought my arm back on instinct and dropped the casserole dish, which made a huge mess and splattered the four hundred degree food all over my uncovered legs, which just caused more burns.
My mother came into the kitchen yelling, telling me there was no reason I should be making such a racket on her birthday. I was crying as I cleaned up the mess and salvaged what I could. By the time we got back from the hospital, the food was cold and Renee was fuming. To top it off, she told me she wouldn't have had any to eat anyway, because she had decided that day to become a vegetarian and therefore couldn't eat the chicken. That phase lasted a week.
I shook my head to pull me out of the memory and saw a man who had to be Dr. Cullen standing at the entrance to the cafeteria looking at me.
"Are you okay, Miss Swan?" he asked, concern on his kind face.
"Yeah, uh, just remembering," I told him. "How come you're not in surgery with Harry Clearwater?"
"The family asked for Dr. Gerandy specifically," he responded sadly. "I'm sorry, I have to get back to my rounds."
I returned to the waiting room with two hot teas and a coffee with two sugars for Charlie.
"Any news?" I asked as I handed the drinks out. Charlie shook his head. Hopefully, no news was good news.
Jake and Billy showed up about thirty minutes later, just in time for the terrible news: Harry had died on the operating table. Sue was inconsolable. It still irked me that her kids hadn't showed up. Who did that?
The next few days were full of condolences and funeral arrangements. Charlie spent the rest of the weekend in La Push and helped Sue out with anything he could, from calling the funeral home to enlisting me to fix some meals. A wake was held Sunday evening on First Beach as the clouds rolled overhead. Some of Harry's ashes were scattered in the Pacific as the tribal elders sang a haunting chant in Quileute.
The wake was the first time since the first bonfire that I'd seen Leah and Seth Clearwater. They looked like hell, but had every right to. Seth had grown at least six inches in just a few months. Both siblings wore their sadness on their faces, but Leah looked gaunt and haunted. It wasn't my place to console her, and even if it was I'd have nothing to offer.
A/N: An early, but short, post. Time has passed and we are rapidly approaching the scene which inspired me to write Black Swan in the first place. I hope y'all will get as much satisfaction out of reading it as I did when I wrote it over a year ago. Things have progressed, and as always, I love to hear your thoughts on where the story is going!
