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In enormous gratifictation, here is ther next chapter!
9. Motorcycle
I was bouncing up and down, excited and completely full of energy. Jake was laughing at me, and I didn't care. I ran at him and attacked him with a hug. His laughed turned a little huskier, and when I pulled back I saw pink on his cheeks.
"They're really done?" I ask/squeaked. He nodded and I bit my lip, trying not to strain my cheeks with huge smile that threatened to surface. My bouncing grew faster, and I felt like I was vibrating. My breathing was fast and frantic.
Jake put a hand on my shoulder, trying to stop my bouncing. His strength did hold me down, but my foot started tapping. He sighed, but smiled at my antics.
"Geez, you'd think I was giving you a puppy," he teased.
"No," I argued, "you're giving me something better."
"You know, sometimes I worry about you." Jacob's voice was light and teasing, but his eyes told that what he said was true. My mood fell with that look, but only enough to stop my tapping and jumping.
"C'mon, let's give them a go," I broke the awkwardness of the moment. Jacob wheeled my bike to me. It looked battered, and old, but it looked sturdy now and very capable of working. I could barely keep myself from jumping and kissing Jake as he handed it to me. Of course I didn't though; Jake would definitely take that the wrong way.
I gripped the bike handles hard. Jacob held onto the bike, making sure the bike was stable before letting go. It rocked and wobbled a bit as he let go, and I could see his hands hover to grab the bike again. I stabled it quickly though, giving Jacob a smile to reassure him.
In response he turned away, trusting me enough to go and grab his own bike. He wheeled it more confidently than me, his strength making it easy to control. I'm not saying I was about to drop the bike, just that a heavy metal bike that isn't moving isn't the most balanced thing in the world. Soon I was aching to be moving again, to balance the bike and try to satiate that need in my chest.
"Okay, lead us to the secret path," I giggled.
We talked as we walked. Our conversation was slightly inhibited by our panting (mostly mine), as the path while easy to walk across was very bumpy with roots sometimes crossing it. I only let Jacob help me get the bike across the roots, stubbornly refusing help for any of the other hills and bumps. Jake kept a smile at my stubbornness, and several times laughed at my determined expression.
"You look like you want to punch something," he teased.
"Well, we don't all take steroids," I defended.
"It's not steroids; I'm just maturing very fast. I'm already older than you. Look at your puny muscles; you've still got a long way to go." He even let go of his bike to poke my arm. With one hand he could still hold it up.
I huffed. "I'm a girl; I'm not supposed to get muscles."
"Really," he pretended to act surprised. "I thought you were a guy, you just hadn't reached puberty."
I had to punch him then, not really hard but enough for me to feel the rock hard abs in his stomach. He pretended to act hurt then had to stop and grab my bike. When I'd let go of the bike it had lost balance, falling to the unsupported side and almost hitting my leg. His hand shot out to steady it so fast that I almost gawked. I'd seen Edward do things much faster, but Jake was Jake, he wasn't a werewolf yet.
"Be careful Bella, your little girly muscles mightn't be strong enough to hold that bike." He grinned. "I guess us guys are just superior."
I glared at him, not risking another punch. He laughed at my lack of response. I stayed quiet for the rest of the trip, walking faster to try and shun him.
"We're almost there," he said after a while, right behind me. Despite my fast walking his longer legs found it easy to keep up, if stumbling a little. He still was growing, not perfectly balanced and at home with his body. He wasn't the only one to stumble through the area to the road. The path ended about 10 metres to the road, and was covered with foliage. You couldn't see the road, so I warily followed Jacob.
I wrestled with my bike through the trees and over branches, roots, rocks and bushes. I even got about 3 metres before Jake returned. He'd left his bike at the road and came back to carry mine. He lifted it like it was made of plastic, a smug smile on his face as gawked. He pushed through the branches, and I followed, pulled back branches battering the hands I held up to defend my face.
I was semi-blind as I walked into the clearing. I squinted out of almost closed eyes, feeling bits of leaves on my eyelids. When the trees and branches gave way I almost fell. I sighed with relief and opened my eyes fully.
I can't say it was beautiful, or at least obviously. It was pretty, forest on both sides and green everywhere. The trees made a canopy over the road, barely letting more light through than the forest. The road itself was nice smooth bitumen, with no potholes from frequent use. It still looked old, no longer black, but a light sun bleached grey, which told you how old it was, knowing its location and the weather of Forks. Despite the age, I loved it, it seemed perfect. It was almost completely straight for at least two hundred metres, with a slow turn at the end.
In short, it was secluded, beautiful, and straight; the perfect place to learn to ride a motorcycle.
Jake was a good teacher, a little enthusiastic for my tastes, but then again, nothing could compare to my enthusiasm. As soon as I was on the road I almost immediately started jumping, hopping from foot to foot and swinging my arms. I couldn't keep my mouth from spreading now, a painfully large smile straining my cheeks. I couldn't care about my face; all I cared about was the bike, the bike Jake was now wheeling to me.
The dull metal glowed rather than shined in the dull light. The old wheels were brown, but the tread was still thick, the bike had obviously not been used often, or the tyres had been new before the lack of use. The leather seats were peeling slightly, but I knew they were soft and worn, very comfortable to sit in. The, well, I could keep describing the bike, but it would get boring, and I barely noticed all these features at the time. I noticed Jacob's smile, proud at his success and excited in the chance to ride the bike. I noticed his strong arm muscles bulging as he turned the bike around to face the stretch of road. I noticed his broad shoulders and shoulders blades moving beneath his tee shirt. I noticed his beautiful skin, and his shining joyous smile, glowing more than the metal.
Compulsively I walked to touch him, his smooth hard forearm. He looked down at me, eyes suddenly very serious. I smiled to cover my stuff up, and slid my hand from his arm onto the handle it was holding. "Are you ready to teach me?" I asked. My voice was a little less light than before.
The emotion in his eyes, the one I really didn't want to see in them. I didn't want him to like me that way, because I didn't want to hurt him. How attracted I was to him made no difference, I wouldn't hurt him like that. My love was for Edward, all for Edward, just picturing him shadowed all emotions I felt for Jacob.
I opened my eyes, and jumped, Edward was standing there, hands over mine. I blinked and he was gone, Jacob in his place. My heart jumped, I released the handles jumping off the bike. I backed away, hands to my head. Before I knew it I was falling, and my back collided with the pavement, forcing the air from my lungs.
My head hit the ground with a loud thud, and pulled myself in a ball.
He wasn't there, I had to tell myself, that wasn't him. Edward!
I was going insane. No, I wouldn't, my mind was sound. That was just... lack of sleep. Yes, my tired mind was playing tricks. I wouldn't become insane, it was not plausible.
I flinched as a warm hand touched me, withdrawing from the touch. I desperately wanted cool, no warm. His hand reminded me of my loss, and I held back tears. It'd been weeks, yet the pain of his leaving was still there, if locked up. The cage was faulty though, and the pain sometimes escaped.
"Are you okay?" Jacob asked softly. I withdrew my hands from my head, and opened my eyes to his very worried, pained expression. I smiled, and nodded, but I couldn't find the strength to make the smile look real. "You don't have to do this you know, if you really don't want to ride the bike."
"No," I said quickly, hearing the slight panic in my voice. He wouldn't take the bike from me, he couldn't. I'd pay him, more than he needs. I needed the bike; I couldn't ask a ride from him every day. Soon he'd turn wolf, then where would that leave me. "I want to learn, I want to ride, I have too," I whispered the last bit.
"You don't have to," he'd heard. His voice was comforting and soft. I drew no comfort from it, for there was nothing that needed to be comforted.
I jumped from the ground, and walked determinedly to the bike, head high and shoulders squared. I confidently swung my leg over it, hands on the handles. I looked back to him expectantly. "I want to ride," it was almost like an order. With an odd look he went to me. He seemed a little frightened, not of me, but for me. I closed my eyes and took a big breath, then smiled reassuringly as he walked in front of the bike.
The worried look fell, and soon he was smiling again, probably because I couldn't stop one leg from bouncing. My eagerness, my rushing, always seemed to amuse him.
He went through the bike's parts with me, and how to use them. Each time he'd grab my hand and make it do what he was instructing, the serious look in his eyes again each time our skin met. I didn't pull away like I should have, I'd scared him enough before, and I didn't want to add hurt on top of that. He seemed to take my smile the wrong way when he thought I was looking at our entwined hands. Truthfully, I was smiling at each thing he taught, almost bouncing on the seat, rearing to get going.
Eventually he'd taught me what to do, or as much as he could while I was at a standstill. I was practically vibrating by the time he stepped away. I was sure that my eyes were crazed; I must've looked like an adrenaline junkie.
I started the engine, looking to him for permission to go. He nodded, eyes very serious as he regarded my posture, a little worried I would fall off I supposed. I smirked at his lack of faith, and accelerated.
The wind lifted my hair, the trees whipped past me. I whooped at the feeling of adrenaline in my veins, the joy at the speed. The urge to keep moving, the need to find my love, it was gone for a second. I took a deep breath, wind whipping into my mouth, so relieved. As instantly as the feeling left exhaustion took my body, my muscles, and my mind. My eyes closed, and I felt the cycle rock.
The motion woke me, and as I opened my eyes I swear I saw his worried face, for a moment.
My heart raced, but I had to forget his face. The bike was rocking, and it took all my concentration to steady it, to keep it straight. The turn of the road was in front of me, and I had under a second to break and turn, just making the bend.
I laughed, I'd done it. I was riding, and I didn't crash. I wasn't like book Bella, I was me, and I could ride better than her on my first day. I spun the bike, breaking and sliding sideways until the momentum of the bike stopped. My foot met the ground as it tilted to the side, supporting the weight of the bike and me.
My smirk shone as Jake sped around the corner, halting his machine similarly to mine. "You made it," he said, relief in his voice.
"You thought I wouldn't?" I said incredulously.
"No, but you were wobbling there for a moment, I just..." I had to cut him off.
"It was my first time, no wobbles from now on," I promised, holding my hand out palm to me. He took it, his own palm facing himself, and our arms twisted around each other, and we both grunted. It was our handshake, and would normally mean we'd be chest to chest, clapping each other on the back. He laughed at my imitation of a man grunt, like always, and I joined in, like always. It did sound a lot like a football had been thrown at my chest.
"Okay, ready to keep going?" he asked.
I nodded.
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