Thursday and Friday were uneventful: school, class prep, writing. I had added another section onto the end of the poem I'd read to Jacob, making it… I don't know, more complete but somehow sadder than I'd intended. But it fit. It was exactly where my head was at lately, so I didn't feel it was fair to cut it just because it was scary. That's what art was, right? It had to touch on something true and essential, which was inherently scary, before it could be art.
The idea of reading it to Jake was terrifying though, which should have shown me how deep that truth ran, but I was so used to ignoring my feelings, undermining my instincts, that I didn't see it. He saw it long before I did, and for that, I'll always be sorry. If I was braver, I could have spared us both so much pain.
But the myth of Edward held me firmly in its grasp. He was everything I imagined I was supposed to want. He was beautiful and elegant, taciturn and eloquent. He was an image of an old-fashioned artist, suffering and sacrificing. There was a part of me that envied him, the strength it took to commit to his art over me. Somewhere, I had come to believe that artists, like priests, had to be austere.
But I was creating some of my best work now, here in Forks. This wasn't the isolated existance of an artist. I was in a small town with a small group of friends, and Jacob - I couldn't deny the importance of Jacob in my work. Here I was free to dream and live; here I was happy. I was creating and happy. I nonetheless believed that the inspiration was flowing from Edward, that his letter, his desire for me, had opened a closed floodgate.
Friday, I was sitting in the teacher's lounge long after classes had ended, working in my notebook. There was a couch there to sit on, and when no one was around, it was a quiet, comfortable place to work. I was still reaching for something; the pieces I had begun were mostly finished, but there was something else, something that remained out of my grasp.
"Hey, Bella, what are you still doing here?" Sam Uley asked as he walked out of his office and into the teacher's lounge on his way home.
"Oh, just finishing some writing."
"I wanted to tell you how great I think you're doing," he said, sitting next to me. "I'd never believe you didn't have any teaching experience if I didn't already know it."
"Thanks."
"I hear nothing but raves and complaints from the kids, which is what I like, none of that middle of the road stuff."
"Complaints?"
"Only because you hold them to it, grade hard, and keep on the pressure. Trust me, complaints are good things," he laughed.
"Okay…"
"So, since you're still here, do you want to come over for dinner? My fiancée and I are having a bonfire down on the beach to celebrate her birthday."
"Oh, I don't want to intrude."
"No, no, it'd be great to have you. Leah's dying to meet you, and I know Jake would love to see you."
"Oh." I blushed, not aware that Sam knew I'd been seeing Jake. Even I couldn't pretend they weren't dates anymore.
"Come on," he encouraged, getting up. "You can follow me over; it'll be fun."
"Okay, Sam, thanks. Let me run and grab my bag."
The drive to Sam's was short; nothing in La Push was very far from anything else. Getting lost here was a near impossibility. There were really only two roads, but if you got out on one of the trails, you could be out there for days without seeing anyone. I hadn't ventured far here; there was a lot of talk about bears and wolves, but someday, I'd love to wander these hills and see what I could find.
Sam lived in a beautiful two-bedroom cabin with his fiancée. From what he'd told me, they were planning on getting married this summer when she finished nursing school. Sam seemed like he was years ahead of me, but in reality, he was only three years older than I was. Inside was overwhelming. I stuck with Sam for as long as it was polite but soon went out to sit on the porch, pulling out my notebook to jot some thoughts down before they evaporated back into the ether.
I knew many of the people there, but I'd been lost in a sea of strangers. The house was small, and no one was headed to the beach yet. Sam's fiancée Leah was beautiful and seemed nice, but she was busy with her guests. In all reality, I was happier out here than anywhere else. I liked being near the activity but wasn't really interested in being a part of it.
"You know it's a sign you have a problem if you drink alone." I heard Jake's voice behind me.
"Good thing I only have a soda then." I turned and smiled, struck by how handsome he was. He was leaning against the frame of the back door, looking down at me on the stairs; his hair was spiked up with more care then I was used to seeing. He had on a white, well-fit button-up shirt that wasn't buttoned nearly all the way up and jeans. He took my breath away. Was it rude to stare at something so beautiful or could it be considered a compliment? Because that's certainly how I meant it.
"What'cha doin'?" he asked, coming to sit next to me.
"Oh, just doodling; finishing up the poem I read you the other night."
"Sounded finished to me."
"It needed just a little more," I admitted shyly.
"Read it to me."
"I don't know."
"What, you read me the beginning. Can't I hear the end? It's not nice to make me beg." He bumped his shoulder into me.
"Okay:
Two traditions met
But their padlocked thoughts
Did not have room:
Experiment to be repeated."
We sat in silence for a moment, staring out at the trees behind Sam's cabin.
"Is that about me?" he asked, looking over at me. I nodded my head without looking at him, biting my lip. "I don't think anyone's ever said anything so beautiful to me." The force of his sincerity made me turn to look at him.
"Well, like I said, you're beautiful."
He leaned in and brushed my lips gently with his, causing my skin to tingle with the contact. "Bella," he breathed before pulling away. "So," he leaned back on his hands, "I'd say that means I can officially consider tomorrow night a date."
"I don't know about that," I laughed, smiling back at him.
"Oh, I think so. I'm beautiful; that means I get to date you."
"Can't I enact the friend clause?" I teased.
"No, I think I'm done being your friend," he said more forcefully than necessary, the truth deeper than the words. "Come on, let's go back inside; we should be heading up to the beach soon."
"It's so loud in there," I whined.
Jacob rolled his eyes. "I'll protect you. Come on." He stood up and held out his hand, and I took it. I took what Jacob offered me without a second thought; I didn't think of the cost.
Inside was a melee, everyone was talking at once, and Leah was trying desperately to get people to carry things to the beach for her. I clung to Jacob's arm, feeling his strength. I realized I liked being on his arm, looking up; I was proud even, to be with him. Moments like these slowed the infection of Edward that was working its way back into my bloodstream.
Finally people started to file out, and I dragged Jacob to the door so that we could get to the beach. I could handle the crowd if only there were no walls and ceiling to hold us all in. Jake stopped and took off his shoes as we got near the path to the beach, putting them in the grass next to the trail.
"Won't someone take them?"
"No, Bella, no one is going to take your shoes."
"Are you sure? I really like these shoes."
"I'm positive no one is going to take your-what?-size four Converse clogs."
"Size six and shut up!"
"Make me," he taunted, kicking sand at me before running up the path laughing.
Such a boy sometimes! I smiled to myself before taking off after him, determined to get some sand in that nicely coiffed hair before the end of the night.
As I rounded the last bend and the tree line ended, I saw the most beautiful beach. I had been to the boardwalk and main tourist beach but never out here. This was a secluded beach with no public access. The sand was fine and felt heavenly under my feet; still warm from the sun's last rays. There was a roaring fire completely unattended with children running about; there didn't seem to be any fear of them falling in. This was a wild place; an untamed place where the rules bended with ease.
I walked without thinking toward the water - dark blue and green, no longer clear as night settled in above us but deep and unknowable.
"Hey, Bella! Look what I found!" I heard Jake call over the squealing of a small child. When I turned, I found that he was holding a wriggling toddler by one ankle and walking toward me.
"Royce!" I called, running over to him to snatch him up and hug him.
"Miss Bella! Why are you here? No pale-faces allowed; Papa told me!"
"Miss Bella's an exception," Jacob said, ruffling Royce's hair and smiling at me.
"Good. Uncle J, do it again!" he cheered, forgetting my existence as Jacob twirled the child by his legs. Jacob equaled Royce's glee with his own.
"Give me that boy," Paul laughed as he ran over and grabbed Royce's arms, swinging him back and forth with Jake.
"Daddy!" Royce called, and Jacob let him down so he could jump in his father's arms. "Look, Miss Bella's here!"
"Oh, hotbox girl, you're Bella, huh?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"I didn't realize you were important to both my main men here." Paul smiled sweetly. "Someday you'll have to tell us your secret; I've never seen Jake work on something so hard."
"What?" I looked between the two men, noticing how different they were: one tall and lanky, the other the same height but broad and strong. Even their faces were different, but somehow, they were brothers, and it was easy to see.
"Shut up, Paul."
"What? I'm just sayin'."
"Daddy, the hot dogs are here! I'm hungry!"
"Come on then, boy; let's eat!" Paul took Royce's hand and headed up to where the food was being set up.
"He really loves his son, doesn't he?"
"Yeah, he's a good guy. Most around here would have just let Roy go, but Paul… he's just not like that." Jake took my hand, and we started strolling down the beach, not going anywhere, just enjoying the last strands of sunlight. His hand was warm and soft, and again, I noticed how right it felt intertwined with mine.
"It's too bad he and Rosalie can't get along better."
"Yeah, it's too bad neither of them knows how to shut up," Jake laughed.
"So," I began, jumping around a little in the sand as we walked, "how was your week?"
"Oh, it was good! I didn't get much done at the garage, though, because I had some stuff to finish for tomorrow night, but I'll catch up."
"What did you have to do for tomorrow night?"
"Oh, just finish up some things."
"Like what? Jake, where are we going?"
"To the college; I told you that."
"Yeah, but what's the event?" I whined. I hated surprises.
"You'll see." He wouldn't look at me.
"You're an ass."
"Yeah, well, at least I'm a sexy ass, right?" he asked, finally looking down at me.
"Now how do I answer that? If I say no, you'll pout all night, and if I say yes, you'll get a big ego and be unbearable!" I needled, poking him in the abs. Wow, was he built. I wondered what he looked like without that shirt on… without pants… Okay, that's enough out of you, libido.
"Hmmm, valid points both. I think you should just kiss me." He stopped and turned to me.
"I violently disagree," I teased, bolting away from him. I knew he could run faster than I could, but he chased after me as I weaved away from him, kicking up sand and water as we went, giggling like children and laughing like lovers.
And then I was on the ground. Jacob had finally had enough of my game and had run straight into my middle with his arms wrapping them around me and pulling me down to the sand. I took advantage of the moment to grab a handful of sand and rub it into his hair while he tickled me.
I laughed so hard my sides hurt.
I laughed so hard my tears fell.
I laughed so hard I forgot about the letter on my desk.
I laughed so hard I forgot about the culture wars around me.
I laughed until he kissed me, my back molded into the sand and my fingers laced into his hair. He lay next to me in the sand, out of breath from laughing and with a light shining from his eyes that no lamp could have created, and kissed me.
It was slow and sweet. His mouth stayed closed as he kissed me firmly, again and again. I leaned into him and brought my leg up, laying it on top of his. His hand came up to my neck, holding me as he kissed and kissed. I moaned softly, scooting closer to him, sucking on his lip, and nipping at him, but he just kissed me harder. I was dizzy with the innocence of it. These closed-mouth kisses stolen in the sand were the single, sexiest experience I'd had with him yet.
I brought my hand to his chest, feeling his heart beat as he kissed me.
Eventually he pulled away from me, his breathing strained. He kissed me once more before sitting up. "Hungry?"
"Yeah, a little."
"Come on, it's dark now; let's get back to the fire." In the distance, the blaze was tall and sparking orange and red.
"I like fire," I said as we walked back slowly, hand in hand. I leaned slightly into him, bumping against his arm with each step.
"Don't tell Emmett."
"What? It's beautiful, and it's passionate."
"It is, but water, you know water is the strongest force of all; it can wear down even the strongest rocks and put out even the hottest fires."
"I guess you're like water then, huh?"
"No, I have no desire to put out your fire."
"Pervert."
"Romantic!"
"Riiiight," I smiled up at him, loving how easy it was to flow back and forth from serious to playful with him.
He bumped me softly with his hip, smiling as we continued on in silence.
As we joined the group, everyone was jovial, music was playing, and the fire was warm. Children were eating and running around, in and out of the woods. There was a kind of freedom here I'd never felt before. Jake and I sat on a blanket after getting some food and started to eat. It was fascinating listening to everyone speak. It was mostly English but now and then another, completely unfamiliar sound would break in.
"What language is everyone speaking?"
"English and some Quileute."
"Oh, I didn't realize people actually spoke it."
"Yeah, well, not many did for a long time, but now it's being taught in school, and more of us are trying."
"Hísta tási," he called as Royce ran by. The boy paused, looked at him, and tilted his head before coming over and holding up his hand for a high five.
"Teach me!" I exclaimed excitedly, putting my plate down and turning to him.
"Umm, okay, what do you want to learn?"
"I don't know. What do you start teaching the kids?"
"Okay, how about counting to 5?"
"Okay!" I was really excited; I loved any chance to learn something new. I wasn't good at languages, but this was something different; this was something about the people I worked with and people I cared about that I could learn.
"Repeat after me, okay?"
"wił," he said slowly.
"WAY-th."
"ła?w."
"Thah-oo."
Jake smiled at me encouragingly; I wasn't sure if that meant I was doing well or badly, but before I could ask, he moved on.
"ķwa?l."
"KWAH-uhl."
"bá?yas."
"BAH-uh-yas."
"tási."
"TAH-see!" I yelled, thrilled that I could get that one to sound at least close to his.
"Awesome! You did really great!"
"Shípa! Ałila-cha'?" an older man from across the fire called out.
"None of your business, old man," Jake hollered back with a friendly voice.
"Who's that?"
"Just one of the old guard who thinks we shouldn't teach outsiders our language."
"Oh, well, I don't want to get you in trouble."
"Can't, Bella; it's just a language. You could learn it at work if you wanted to or on the internet; it's not like it's some big secret."
Sitting here with Jake, next to the fire, eating hamburgers cooked over coals stoking in the sand, I could forget the rest of the world. I could relax into his eyes. But as I looked at him, an old song came into my mind: Though your lips are tempting, they're the wrong lips… No matter how great Jacob was, he wasn't Edward; he never would be. Could I be happy with Jacob when I knew Edward was out there; when I knew he wanted me?
What would life with Edward be like now, traveling and creating, performing and seeing the world? He had no concern for money as his parents were wealthy and happy to support his art. I knew they would have supported mine too, if things had gone differently. Is that a life I could live now, one without roots or community? Could I be a modern ex-patriot, searching the world for inspiration?
"Hey, Shípa! This your Hókwat'?"
"No, you ass, this is Bella. Bella, this is Quil."
"Oh, yeah, hey," I said, turning to the smiling face lying behind me.
"Yeah! Hi! I guess Jake didn't burn your skin off in the hotbox after all."
"No, still there."
"Good, you're too pretty to get the Royal Jake Treatment."
"Shut up!" Jake punched Quil in the shoulder.
"Baby! Where'd you go?" a young voice called before coming over to sit next to Quil. She sat down gracefully, her body comfortable with the contact with his. She leaned in and kissed him before pushing her long black hair behind her ear and looking at us. When she saw me, the smile vanished, and her eyes dilated. Even if it wasn't a big deal here on the reservation, some part of her knew that what I'd just seen was not okay.
"Claire?"
"Umm, yeah, hi, Miss… I mean, Bella."
I stared at her, unsure of what to say as I took in the youthful flush on her face and remembered the knowing words of her poetry. I looked at Quil, who seemed oblivious to the conversation going on silently between Claire and me. Claire… she was maybe fifteen, maybe fourteen. How old was Quil? Certainly out of high school.
"Claire, Bella told me you were doing some great work in class," Jacob said lightly, breaking the moment and forcing me back to the situation before me.
"Yeah, I, um, I sent some stuff in to a publishing house."
"Really?" Quil asked, looking at her. "That's amazing! Can I read it?"
"Oh, ah…" She looked at me sheepishly, becoming the child she was for a moment and asking for my help.
"Quil, why don't you wait until it's published? It'll be so much more exciting to see it in a magazine."
"Yeah, you can see it then," Claire agreed, smiling at me.
"So, Bella, you going tomorrow?" Quil asked, accepting the compromise without complaint and with a sparkle in his eye.
"To what?" I asked cagily.
"Oh, no, you don't!" Jake laughed. "It's a surprise. I want you to go in without any assumptions."
"God, what are you doing to me?"
"Nothing, it'll be fun."
Quil was sitting up now, his arm draped around Claire; she looked happy there but still wouldn't meet my eye.
"Okay, will you at least give me a hint? I mean, what should I wear? Is it mud wrestling or formal wear?"
"Mud wrestling, definitely mud wrestling," Quil cackled. "Come on, Jake, can we take the girls mud wrestling?"
"Quil!" Claire squealed playfully, smacking him in the chest.
"What, baby? It'd be hot!"
"Bella, wear whatever you want, but, ah, wear pants."
"Okay….this is sounding more and more ominous the more I find out."
"Good, that'll keep you interested." He winked at me.
"All right, Shípa, we're gonna head out. Come on, baby, we have to get you home for curfew," Quil said, standing up. What time was it? The sky had gotten dark while we were talking.
When they left, Jake lay back, putting his hands behind his head. His chest and stomach expanded with his movements, his body beautiful and strong. I lay next to him on my side, looking at his face… though your face is charming, it's the wrong face…
"What is it that everyone keeps calling you? Sheepa?"
"No, Shípa. SHAY-puh. It means Black in Quileute; it's a nickname."
"Oh, it's nice."
"I guess. It makes me feel like I never left here though, you know, like I'm still the stupid teenager who got crushes on the wrong girls and couldn't keep my temper in check. It's just not who I am anymore."
"I feel that way when my mother calls me Isabella."
"That's pretty though."
"Yeah, to you. Shípa is pretty to me. It's all about where you're coming from, you know?"
"I do," he smiled at me. "I like talking to you; you… think."
"I try."
"No, I mean it; you don't just stop at where things are."
"I like you too, Jake."
He smiled over at me, letting my words hang between us like fog.
"Hey, Jake," Paul said, breaking the spell before it was fully cast. "You, ah, you two have plans tonight?"
"What? Oh, ah, no…" Jake answered, looking at me out of the side of his eye.
"Well, look, Kim is here, and she and Jared aren't… so I was wondering if…"
"Sure, sure, Paul; I'll take Royce home."
"Great! Thanks!" Paul ran off to tell the girl waiting for him.
"I guess that's my cue," Jacob stood up, dusting the sand off of his jeans ineffectively.
"Oh, okay."
"Unless, I mean, I just need to drop Royce off at the Uleys'. Do you want to… come back to my place?" he asked as I stood up.
"Jake…"
"No, not like that, I know you're not… Crap," he sighed, putting his hand on the back of his neck.
Smiling, I said, "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
"Yeah." He looked down. "Sorry, I don't want to… I know you have some shit to work through."
"It's okay." I leaned up to him, kissing him on the side of his mouth.
"I'll pick you up at 5:00, okay?"
"Yeah… Goodnight, Jake."
As I walked back to the house to find Sam and say goodbye, I heard Royce's happy voice talking to Jacob. The words were muffled, absorbed by the sand.
Bella's Poem: This is a horribly bastardized and gender adjusted version of Antonin Artaud's brilliant poem 'Cry.' I'll probably go to Theatre Hell for doing this (I think that's called Reality TV…). If you don't know Antonin Artaud, it's okay, few people outside of the community do, but you should. He was brilliant and pained and crazy and just magnificent.
All of the Quileute here is real according to the great and wise internet. I used real phrases with their real meanings, but I don't speak Quileute, so if it's wrong, blame it on the internet, okay?
