Once we returned to the house, everyone except for Robyn had left the kitchen and had moved to the couch, eyes fixated on the television set. On the screen was a football game – both the Seahawks and their opponent had a score of zero at the moment.
"Did you two make up?" Dylan asked, glancing up at us as we entered.
"If not," Shane shrugged. "I have a shoulder for you to cry on, Scarlett."
"Yes," Nathaniel shot an aggressive glace at Shane. "We 'made up'."
"You sure are defensive of her," Tommy commented, not looking at any specific person other than those on the television. "Why so edgy?"
"I'm not edgy," Nathaniel denied, sitting on the couch and leaving a spot for me beside him. "I'm just worried about her. This chick is fragile. She trips on air – I'd like avoid a trip to the emergency room today, if you don't mind."
"I'll be fine," I sat down carefully, making sure to seem more balanced than usual for the next few minutes – the last thing I wanted to do was to fall like an idiot and prove Nathaniel's point.
"Go, go, go!" Adam and Dylan jumped to their feet, watching the screen elatedly as the quarterback dashed from one end zone to the other.
"Touchdown!" Zach exclaimed, hi-fiving Shane.
Nathaniel chuckled quietly, and then leaned over to whisper to me, "Just put a television in front of a group of guys and they'll go completely mad."
I stayed for a couple hours after that, until the sun fell into the sea and the moon took its nightshift. A rainstorm had blown in, pattering loudly on the metal roof like bullets. The game had started out phenomenal, but then it took a sour turn for the Seahawks – they lost 7 to 34. By then, it was almost ten o'clock.
"They really took a beating," Dylan exhaled as we shuffled into the kitchen.
"At least they didn't suck completely," Adam shrugged, breaking away from the group and walking down the hallway.
"Well, Scarlett," Nathaniel rested his palm on the countertop as Tommy began to browse through Robyn and Adam's refrigerator. "It's getting late and driving back in this weather will be hell, so I might as well take you home now."
"Okay," I nodded. "I'll get my coat."
"Here," Justin beat me to it, taking my coat off the back of a kitchen chair and tossing it to me.
Typically, I dropped it.
"Klutz," Nathaniel laughed, picking it up for me.
"If you haven't already noticed," I simpered. "I'm awfully uncoordinated."
"C'mon, let's go," Nathaniel grabbed my arm and pulled me to the door.
"Wait," I stopped, but he dragged me despite my resistance. "I don't get to say goodbye to anyone?"
"Yeah, Nate," Shane approached us. "She doesn't get to say goodbye?"
"Bye, Shane," I smiled. He pulled me into a brief hug.
"Bye, honey," Shane grinned before slouching into a kitchen chair.
"Later, Scarlett!" Tommy waved enthusiastically, still hopeful. "Will you be coming back any time soon?"
"I have nothing to do tomorrow," I replied, deciding that this was much, much better than sitting around by myself all day.
"Did she say she's coming back?" Zach's eyes widened as Robyn entered the room, Adam close behind her. "That's weird – usually we scare people away."
"No, you are all very nice," I said politely.
"Are you leaving?" Robyn approached me and wrapped me in a hug. "It was great meeting you. You can come down any time."
"Thanks, Robyn," I nodded, as Nathaniel uncomfortably pulled on my hand, longing to go. "It was nice meeting all of you. Thank you so much."
"I didn't get my goodbye hug!" Dylan complained jokingly, but yet he made no move to get up from his chair and come near me.
"We don't have time," Nathaniel exhaled exasperatedly, pulling me out the front door and slamming it shut before anyone else could intercede.
"You seem eager to leave," I noted.
He remained on the porch, peering off the two inch drop as if it were a mile to the ground. "I wanted to leave before it got dark."
"Why?" I wondered.
"I left my car at the beach."
"Oh," I recalled – we'd both forgotten about it completely. "So you did."
"I guess I can take you back in the van and pick up my car later," He suggested mainly to himself. As soon as he decided, he grabbed my hand and pulled me out into the downpour.
I made a mad dash for shelter, running to the van and putting my hand on the handle, waiting for him to unlock it. However, when I turned to look behind me, Nathaniel was still by the porch.
His neck was craned back and his mouth was wide open, drinking the rain immaturely – acting like a six and a half foot tall four-year-old. His hair and his shirt clung to his body, accenting his muscular figure. The rain bounced off the gravel driveway around him, springing back up to his knees.
Altogether, it was like a scene from a movie.
It was rare to see a beautiful sight in one lifetime; I could've sworn that Mason was the most gorgeous thing I'd ever lay eyes on. However, Nathaniel made me speechless, sending all my thoughts into a muddled mess. I felt a sudden respect for Nathaniel – his simple outlook on everything was adorable, but his large heart was an even bigger quality to adore. In spite of myself, I refused to let Nathaniel surpass Mason – Mason was my ultimate goal, and I would never be able to let him slip through my fingers without a fight.
Instead, I decided that neither boy was more beautiful than the other; yet, each was their own category of beautiful … I lost my train of thought.
How do I put this logically? Justifiably?
Mason was intellectual, while Nathaniel was no scholar. Nathaniel was blissful and effortless, while Mason had a more profound, multifaceted way of depicting his emotions. Physically, Mason was pale, while Nathaniel was most definitely not; to me, Nathaniel was uplifting, pulling me to the light, while Mason was my beacon in a dark place.
They evened each other out.
A choice? Oh, no. Definitely not. I would do whatever it took to avoid a final decision; I refused to let them put me on the spot. Decisively, I knew I would have to decide within myself – I would be the judge, and I would be the only one who knew of my judgment day. If that meant preferring one over the other, I'd do it. I just wouldn't be able to decide the verdict with both of them watching me expectantly.
I was caught between a lesser of two beauties.
Time seemed to stop; it felt as though I was staring at Nathaniel for hours instead of mere seconds. I supposed, watching such a sight, I couldn't process time, or temperature, or sound; everything seemed to mush together. It was impossible to process thought either – I couldn't even preserve the moment in my memory bank, that's how befuddled I was … and then I lost my thoughts in the breeze again.
Eventually, Nathaniel pulled his head forward and looked straight into the woods. Then he turned to me slowly, watching me with joyful, vividly excited eyes. I wondered what my expression was right now – probably confused, and stunned, and overwhelmed. After nothing but the sound of rain and nothing but two beautiful chocolate eyes staring at me, an echo punctured the air.
It was his laughter.
The sound was revitalizing, electrifying; it reverberated throughout the woods, taking over my whole body until I was at the point of no return. I had never heard such a pleasant sound; it made me think of the better, instead of the worse – it made me fly into a world of contentment, with nothing else around me to dampen the day. All misery, all sadness, all impurity was erased with a single sound … the sound of his laughter.
"Scarlett," Nathaniel's voice cooed, the hint of a chuckle under his breath.
I blinked excessively, wondering if it were all some far away dream that I'd conjured up … no, there was no way I could've dreamt a beautiful noise such as that. It was too new, too marvelous to be a product of my brain; I wouldn't have been able to come close to such an extraordinary picture.
"N-Nathaniel?" I stuttered. I could still hear the patter of rain around us.
Looking up, I found Nathaniel's face inches from mine. I was in his arms, disturbingly close to the gravel driveway.
"What happened?" I looked up at his dripping wet face.
"You fainted," He smirked, unable to contain his delight. "Or was that you just tripping on air again?"
I looked away from him. "Wow, that's embarrassing."
"Good thing I caught you before your head hit the gravel," He mused, lifting me back to a standing position. "Are you okay? Why'd you faint anyway?"
"Y-you just … you disorientated me," I stammered.
He seemed surprised, but then his shock morphed into amusement. "I should get you back home before you hurt yourself."
"That might be best," I agreed, climbing cautiously into the van.
Nathaniel helped me into the passenger side, making me feel disabled. He then dashed around the hood of Tommy's van, hopped into the driver's side and put the key in the ignition, the vehicle hesitantly stuttering to life. As we turned back down Robyn and Adam's driveway, Nathaniel spoke animatedly to me about something or another. I, however, was unable to intake a single word he said; I still felt treacherously lightheaded.
Once we were back on the Reservation's main road, I regained my clarity, all the blurry outlines becoming a firm, clear picture. Nathaniel smiled at me, apparently noticing the glassy film slipping off my eyes.
"Are you feeling okay?" He grinned solicitously.
"Everything's a little clearer," My voice was small, practically inaudible.
"Well, at least your conscious again," he turned his eyes back to the road.
"I had fun today," I told him. He dropped his shoulders as if a huge burden had just been lifted off them. "You seem relieved."
"I am," He confirmed. "I was afraid you'd be startled by us."
"Startled?" I raised an eyebrow, curious. "Should I be?"
"Well, you're alone a lot," He shrugged. "And we're – unfortunately – always together. I just would've thought … too much human life all at once may have paralyzed you."
"Ha, ha," I exhaled a fake laugh, turning my head to look at him, but spinning a little too quickly. I felt suddenly woozy for a few seconds.
He noticed. "Are you sure you're alright?"
"Swift movements don't help much," I replied. "But I'm fine. Continue."
"Alright," He paused to recollect his thoughts. Once settling on where to begin, he asked, "Do you know what I've noticed? Something different about us?"
"Physically? Emotionally?" I tried to clarify.
"No, where we live," he sighed. "Your house is much more … blue. And I don't mean sad, I mean, like … like the actual feel of it. While my home here on the Rez is rather, I don't know, yellow."
"I was considering a paint job …"
"No, no," He shook his head. "I don't know exactly how to put it – even though La Push and Forks are less than an hour from each other and even though the weather is equally as dark in both places, you seem much more … sullen."
I didn't know how to respond.
"Or so I've noticed," He added.
"I guess I can understand what you're saying," I exhaled. "I suppose there's a reason for those sorts of differences, though." He glimpsed over at me. "You're right. the places are not far from one another or different much at all. But I guess people in La Push revolt against the weather in a metaphorical sense. They don't want to be wrapped up in the darkness and the … blueness of the atmosphere we are forced to endure."
He nodded.
"Meanwhile," I continued. "In Forks, if we didn't move here because we actually wanted to be here, we would've – indisputably – moved somewhere else. In Forks, it's either mold with the background or move somewhere sunny."
There was a pause between the two of us.
"La Push is much brighter, and not in terms of weather, I've observed," I finished, glancing over at Nathaniel. "Gosh, I sound like those snobby historians in a documentary.
He adjusted his hand's position on the steering wheel before saying, "And you like it in Forks, right? You actually want to live there?"
"Yes," I answered surely.
"Why?" His tone questioned my sanity.
I exhaled, smiling. "You have no idea how many times I've been asked that question. From my family, especially."
"I was born here," He sighed. "So staying until the age of eighteen was understandable, for me. I'm still debating why I came back … but you, you came here all on your own will."
"Yes," I repeated.
"You surprise me – often."
"Just trying to keep things interesting," I replied, pulling the sleeves of my jacket farther over my balled fists.
He laughed, and then stopped to ask me another question. "Do you have friends up in Forks?"
"Few," I answered. "But good friends, nonetheless."
"Then why are you alone all the time?" He wondered.
"It's simple really," I shrugged, looking over at him. "Humans are busy, I am not." My eyes retreated to my hands, self-conscious.
He didn't say anything, he just nodded.
I continued, mostly talking to myself. "I guess, that doesn't make me human – I'm an alien …. Perhaps, I'm not supposed to be here."
"Don't say that," He chuckled.
"Why not?" I glimpsed over at him. "It's true, isn't it?"
"No, it's not true," He denied. "You know what my mother said to me one time, before I left La Push?"
"What?"
"No one would want to live in the Pacific Northwest unless you were born here," He explained. "If someone moved here, they would be putting themselves through brutal self-training, trying to battle the darkness, and the wet, and the cold, and the isolation. They'd do for the sake of … trying to save themselves."
I took a deep breath.
"And once you've survived isolation," He concluded. "You're invincible."
There was a silence between us.
I was the first to break it, "Invincible, huh?" I shrugged. "Then I must be indestructible." I had to laugh at the statement, I just had to – it sounded outrageous coming out of my mouth.
"Don't laugh," He instructed. "I believe it."
"You must be crazy, then," I mused, still giggling to myself.
"No," he denied. "You may not think this, but you're stronger than you give yourself credit for."
I paused. "Not physically."
"No, definitely not physically," He chuckled. "But resilience-wise, yes."
I laughed again. "Are we talking about the same person?"
"I'm talking about you," He nodded.
"No, you're not," I shook my head. "I'm pathetic, if you haven't already noticed – emotionally, and often physically, incapable of standing on my own two feet."
"I'm talking about you," He repeated only this time with more emphasis.
"Nathaniel," I wasn't laughing anymore; my voice was desperate, longing to prove him wrong, longing to prove my incapability. Why was I so determined to fight against him about this? "I'm delicate, always having to lean on someone else for support – never able to stand on my own. I can't imagine why anyone would think otherwise."
His eyes remained glued to the road, saying nothing.
We drove in silence for a few moments. The outside scenery passed faster now as Nathaniel sped up to almost seventy. I didn't mind the speed – although, I was unsure of his need to rush.
I didn't want to rush.
I wanted to waste as much of my time as possible with him; I didn't want to return home. I knew for a fact, that the minute he pulled out of my driveway, I would turn and look at my empty house, as if expecting it to talk back to me. Coop had been right – my need for people was repugnant; my need for someone else was like a human's need for air, completely instinctive and utterly compulsory.
Before I knew it, my house was in front of us and Nathaniel was turning off the car. Even though he stepped out of the vehicle, I refused to move. I detested the thought of walking back into detachment so easily.
Nathaniel noticed my reluctance and misread it as his own fault; he walked around to my door and opened it, saying, "So you're one of those girls, are you? Don't get out of the car unless the guy opens your door? Little Miss Stubborn."
"No," I denied, stepping out of the car, completely ignoring the rain. "I just don't want you to leave."
He stepped back, obviously staggered by my statement. His eyes widened at first, but then softened. his smile grew warm as he stepped closer and took my hand in his.
I sniffed, "I don't want to be alone."
"You don't have to be," He stepped closer.
Nathaniel smiled at me lovingly, bending to down to reach my height. His face neared mine, and I knew what was coming. Suddenly, there was a furious debate inside me. Should I let him? Should I not? What about Mason? Mason would never know.
"No," I stopped him, stepping away from him.
"Why not?" He acted as though his hand burned once I'd let go.
"I should go inside," I shook my head, walking around the back of the car and down the pathway to the front door.
"Scarlett, wait!" He called out for me.
But I was already at the front door, stuffing the key in the lock. I was positively infuriated – not by Nathaniel, but by myself. I shouldn't have needed to debate. I should've known without having to think about it that even considering kissing Nathaniel was the wrong thing to do. Mason loved me, and he'd expressed to me how much. I already knew how much I needed him, and I couldn't let him go.
"Scarlett, I'm sorry! Wait!" Nathaniel's voice was pleading as I stepped into my house.
I was about to shut the door, when I felt a tug on my arm. And, all of a sudden, I was outside again.
Nathaniel exhaled, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to kiss you after all you've been through. Just please … don't ignore me, don't let me go. I beg you."
"You beg me?" I repeated the words unbelievingly.
"Yes," He nodded. "With all my heart."
I tried to pull out his stronghold, but his grip was too strong.
"I need you," He implored.
For a moment I got lost in his eyes, lost in his words. I wanted to believe every sound that came out of his mouth – I wanted to trust him. But to break my trance, I turned and looked into the living room. There was the photo album, closed shut on the coffee table; I knew, somewhere in the midst of the crowded pages, Mason stood in a stunning tuxedo, his arm around a girl who was too average to even try to make herself beautiful. He was the one that I needed, and that's all there was to it.
"I'm sorry," I frowned. "But you're not the one I love."
His spirits plummeted at lightening speeds; the disappointment was clear on his face.
"But," I continued; his eyes returned to mine. "That doesn't mean I don't want you. I need you, too – being alone is like drowning, and you pulled me out of the water. You saved me."
He shook his head, whispering in a small voice, "You don't want me."
"That's a lie," I sighed. "I want you more than you know."
Nathaniel said nothing.
"And to prove it," a hint of a smile crossed my face. "I expect you to pick me up at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, and we'll go to Robyn's. And I expect the same the next day, and the day after that …"
He looked at me, confused. Fortunately, though, a smile was forming.
"I'm yours for the next three weeks," I proposed. "And if I don't change my mind about how I feel for you by then, there's nothing more we can do."
Nathaniel shrugged, adjusting to the idea.
"Deal?" I lifted my hand to shake his.
"Deal," He nodded, taking my hand. However, instead of shaking it, he pulled me into a hug. I inhaled, memorizing every quality about him.
Once he pulled away, I smiled, "See you tomorrow morning."
"And the morning after that," He grinned.
"And the morning after that," I continued.
Nathaniel, obviously thrilled by the next few weeks' plans, jogged to his car and waved to me before getting in. He backed out of the drive, and then zoomed down the street. Once he turned the corner, my smile faded as I stepped back into the foyer, shutting the door silently behind me.
